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“Yes, I see you know whom I mean. She and I were great friends when we were girls, and we had almost decided to start school-keeping together. She was most enthusiastic about it, and used to talk of the joy of devoting her whole life absolutely to the great work. But, unfortunately, she went to stay with some relations, and while with them she fell in with a young Scotch soldier, Sir Dugald Haigh. He was ridiculously poor, for his father had spent everything he could lay his hands on, and mortgaged the estates, so that Sir Dugald had scarcely more than his Artillery pay upon which to support an empty title and two people. But Elma married him and went out to India at once, and she has travelled about with him ever since in all sorts of outlandish places and horrible climates. I believe they have been very happy, and Sir Dugald is high in the Service, and has lately been made Consul-General and political agent at Baghdad, so I suppose they are not pinched any longer now. I don’t grudge them their happiness, my dear,” added Miss Arbuthnot, slowly, “but I have never been able to help regretting that Elma should have given up such a work for the sake of that very ordinary little man.”