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            NEVER FORGOTTEN.

             PART THE SECOND.
CHAPTER XIX. YOUNG BRETT DISCOVERS ALL.

STILL under the impression that his office was
a little "shabby," Young Brett had to reassure
himself pretty often. All that Miss Manuel
wished was to hear how a quiet lady died.
He spoke to a waiter that night about Major
Carter. An admirable gentleman, said the
waiter, known and liked in the place. They
were all sorry when he left. He was so gay
and cheerful, and could tell such nice stories.
And Mrs. Carter? A good woman too, but
"soft " and quietby no means to come near
the major. What did she die of? O, ill for a long
time; regular break up. Began with a cold. In
fact, only for the major, who took such care and sat
up and slaved himself night after night, she
would have been dead months before. A good
charitable mangay and pleasant too. (As if
the charitable were not usually gifted with these
qualities.) Where did he live, and the lady die?
At Griffiths's, in the main street.

In the morning he saw the little dun town
better, its tiny street, its house or two, whose
second story projected over on pillars, and made
a sort of summer-house below. He found that
his hotel had one front which looked into the
little main street, and another, heavy, massive,
and of a chilling iron-grey, that made part of a
terrace, and looked out across a little common
upon the sea. This was now a cheerless prospect;
and the iron-grey face was as rough and well
scored with ill usage from the weather, as that
of an old storm-beaten pilot.

He set off to Griffiths's. There were miniature
shops, where they seemed to sell nothing
but glass blacking-bottles full of sweets and
lozenges, and in which articles a brisk trade
must have been done. He found his way to
a narrow yellow strip of a house, in the front
bedroom of which Mrs. Carter had died. He
knocked. It was opened by a tall bony woman.
She stood with it half open, so that her figure,
with the door, made up a perfect and satisfactory
obstruction. Young Brett said cheerfully
that he wished to see Mrs. Griffiths.

"About what?" said the other, sharply.

"Well," said Young Brett, "say about
lodgings."

"There are no lodgings to let here, nor won't
be," said the woman, preparing to close the door.

"But," said Young Brett, "I want to see
Mrs. Griffiths."

"Well, what o' that?" said the woman, yet
more sharply. "I am her; and I tell you we let
no lodgings, and won't let them."

Brett, still good humoured and never to be
put out of temper, said how provoking this was,
and that it couldn't be helped. That he was a
stranger in the place, and could hethis he put
at a venturesee Mr. Griffiths?

"No ye can't, no nor him neither," she said,
not so sharply now. "We don't waste time in
this place, and you, young man, don't waste
yours."

"You won't let me in, that's evident," said
Young Brett, laughing.

"What is it?" said a voice behind the woman,
and a hard-lined face, that had been in the world
some sixty years, appeared on the shoulder of
the woman. Said the woman: "He wants lodgings.
Only think! Why, there's the hotel!"

The sixty years' face had sharp eyes and ragged
hair. The sharp eyes twinkled. "Lodgings,"
it said. " We might, you know. It ain't the
custom. But if a good thing offered——"

The bony woman turned on him. "Always for
money," she said, wickedly. "You would sell
your soul, and all our souls, for a Welsh tester.
I tell you we won't."

"You think money is to be picked up in the
street," he said. "Here is a gentleman who will
make us a good offer, I know he will. And it
is hard, precious hardin my own house, too."

"Ah, go in," she said, with a rough good
humour. "Don't let us be exposing ourselves
in the street. It can't be done," she said to
Brett. "Very sorry not to have you, sir. But
we don't like to put ourselves out. And I have
a hundred things to do; so——" She closed the
door, making it finish what she was saying.

Young Brett went his way a little gloomy.
"I can do no more," he thought, "if they won't
let me in, or tell me anything." But he felt a little
ashamed of coming back to Miss Manuel so
unsuccessful. So he set off to take a walk in the
grounds of the old castle next the town.

Some one "showed" it to him; i.e. received a