‘I do not remember the name,’ Melusine said, turning to Mrs Ibstock. Lucy thought of a song that she had not been able to get out of her head since the Fifties. The sunshine broke across each shoulder, one lance striking the yellow face of a Chinaman, queueless and dressed in European clothes, the other lance falling squarely upon the face of the man he had journeyed thirteen thousand miles to find. "This locket," he said, taking a little ornament attached to a black ribband from his breast, and giving it her,—"do you remember it?" "I do—I do!" cried Winifred. ’ ‘You see, I am of them,’ she said seriously, ‘but not with them—yet.
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