Oh, the horror of those meals!" she added, with a little shudder.

"Think of me, dear Nigel, who never eat more than an omelette and some fruit for luncheon, compelled to sit down every day to a _mittagessen_! I wonder I have any digestion left at all." "Do you mean that you were there under your own name ?" he asked incredulously.
She shook her head.
"I secured some perfectly good testimonials before I left," she said.
"They referred to a Miss Brown, the daughter of Prebendary Brown.

I was Miss Brown." "Great Heavens!" Nigel muttered under his breath.

"You heard about Atcheson ?" She nodded.
"Poor fellow, they got him all right.

You talk about thrills, Nigel," she went on.