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 Advanced Computational Methods in

Heat Transfer IX

WIT Press publishes leading books in Science and Technology.

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WITeLibrary
Home of the Transactions of the Wessex Institute.
Papers presented at Heat Transfer 2006 are archived in the WIT elibrary in volume 53 of
WIT Transactions on Engineering Sciences (ISSN 1743-3533).
The WIT electronic-library provides the international scientific community with
immediate and permanent access to individual papers presented at WIT conferences.
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This page intentionally left blank
 NINTH INTERNATIONAL CONFERENCE ON
ADVANCED COMPUTATIONAL METHODS IN HEAT
TRANSFER

HEAT TRANSFER IX

CONFERENCE CHAIRMEN

B. Sundén
Lund Institute of Technology, Sweden

C. A. Brebbia
Wessex Institute of Technology, UK

INTERNATIONAL SCIENTIFIC ADVISORY COMMITTEE

R. Amano P. Heggs B. Pavkovic

A. Buikis C. Herman W. Roetzel
L. De Biase D. B. Ingham B. Sarler
G. De Mey Y. Jaluria S. Sinkunas
S. del Giudice P. S. Larsen A. C. M. Sousa
K. Domke X. Luo J. Szmyd
J. Gylys A. Mendes S. Yanniotis
K. Onishi
H. Oosthuizen

Organised by
Wessex Institute of Technology, UK
Lund University of Technology, Sweden

Sponsored by
The Development in Heat Transfer Book Series
This page intentionally left blank
 Transactions Editor
Carlos Brebbia
Wessex Institute of Technology
Ashurst Lodge, Ashurst
Southampton SO40 7AA, UK
Email: [email protected]

WIT Transactions on Engineering Sciences

Editorial Board

B. Abersek B Alzahabi
University of Maribor Kettering University
Slovenia USA

K S Al Jabri A G Atkins
Sultan Qaboos University University of Reading
Oman UK

J A C Ambrosio A F M Azevedo
IDMEC University of Porto
Portugal Portugal

H Azegami R Belmans
Toyohashi University of Katholieke Universiteit
Technology Leuven
Japan Belgium

G Belingardi E Blums
Politecnico di Torino Latvian Academy of Sciences
Italy Latvia
S K Bhattacharyya F-G Buchholz
Indian Institute of Universitat Gesanthochschule
Technology Paderborn
India Germany

A R Bretones W Cantwell
University of Granada Liverpool University
Spain UK

J Byrne S K Chakrabarti
University of Portsmouth Offshore Structure Analysis
UK USA

D J Cartwright H Choi
Bucknell University Kangnung National
USA University
Korea

A Chakrabarti L De Biase
Indian Institute of Science University of Milan
India Italy

J J Connor R de Borst
Massachusetts Institute of Delft University of
Technology Technology
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L Debnath G De Mey
University of Texas-Pan Ghent State University
American Belgium
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S del Giudice M Domaszewski

University of Udine Universite de Technologie de
Italy Belfort-Montbeliard
France
I Doltsinis W Dover
University of Stuttgart University College London
Germany UK

J Dominguez K M Elawadly
University of Seville Alexandria University
Spain Egypt

J P du Plessis F Erdogan
University of Stellenbosch Lehigh University
South Africa USA

M E M El-Sayed H J S Fernando
Kettering University Arizona State University
USA USA

M Faghri E E Gdoutos
University of Rhode Democritus University of
Island Thrace
USA Greece

C J Gantes D Goulias
National Technical University of Maryland
University of Athens USA
Greece

R Gomez Martin D Gross

University of Granada Technische Hochschule
Spain Darmstadt
Germany

R H J Grimshaw R C Gupta
Loughborough University National University of
UK Singapore
R Grundmann K Hameyer
Technische Universitat Katholieke Universiteit
Dresden Leuven
Germany Belgium

J M Hale P J Heggs
University of Newcastle UMIST
UK UK

L Haydock D A Hills
Newage International University of Oxford
Limited UK
UK

C Herman T H Hyde
John Hopkins University University of Nottingham
USA UK

M Y Hussaini N Ishikawa
Florida State University National Defence Academy
USA Japan

D B Ingham N Jones
The University of Leeds The University of Liverpool
UK UK

Y Jaluria T Katayama
Rutgers University Doshisha University
USA Japan

D R H Jones E Kita
University of Cambridge Nagoya University
UK Japan
S Kim A Konrad
University of Wisconsin- University of Toronto
Madison Canada
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A S Kobayashi T Krauthammer
University of Washington Penn State University
USA USA

S Kotake F Lattarulo
University of Tokyo Politecnico di Bari
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M Langseth Y-W Mai

Norwegian University of University of Sydney
Science and Technology Australia
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S Lomov B N Mandal
Katholieke Universiteit Indian Statistical Institute
Leuven India
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G Manara T Matsui
University of Pisa Nagoya University
Italy Japan

H A Mang R A W Mines
Technische Universitat The University of Liverpool
Wien UK
Austria

A C Mendes T Miyoshi
Univ. de Beira Interior Kobe University
Portugal Japan
A Miyamoto T B Moodie
Yamaguchi University University of Alberta
Japan Canada

G Molinari D Necsulescu
University of Genoa University of Ottawa
Italy Canada

D B Murray H Nisitani
Trinity College Dublin Kyushu Sangyo University
Ireland Japan

S-I Nishida P O'Donoghue

Saga University University College Dublin
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B Notaros K Onishi
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USA

M Ohkusu E Outa
Kyushu University Waseda University
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P H Oosthuizen W Perrie
Queens University Bedford Institute of
Canada Oceanography
Canada

G Pelosi D Poljak
University of Florence University of Split
Italy Croatia
H Pina H Power
Instituto Superior Tecnico University of Nottingham
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L P Pook I S Putra
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London Bandung
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D Prandle M Rahman
Proudman Oceanographic Dalhousie University
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F Rachidi T Rang
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USA Environmental Health
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University of Illinios- Universitaet der Bundeswehr
Urbana Hamburg
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K Richter S Russenchuck
Graz University of Magnet Group
Technology Switzerland
Austria

V Roje B Sarler
University of Split Nova Gorica Polytechnic
Croatia Slovenia
H Ryssel R Schmidt
Fraunhofer Institut RWTH Aachen
Integrierte Schaltungen Germany
Germany

A Savini A P S Selvadurai
Universita de Pavia McGill University
Italy Canada

B Scholtes L C Simoes
Universitaet of Kassel University of Coimbra
Germany Portugal

G C Sih J Sladek
Lehigh University Slovak Academy of Sciences
USA Slovakia

P Skerget D B Spalding
University of Maribor CHAM
Slovenia UK

A C M Sousa G E Swaters
University of New University of Alberta
Brunswick Canada
Canada

T S Srivatsan C-L Tan

University of Akron Carleton University
USA Canada

J Szmyd A Terranova
University of Mining and Politecnico di Milano
Metallurgy Italy
Poland
S Tanimura S Tkachenko
Aichi University of Otto-von-Guericke-University
Technology Germany
Japan

A G Tijhuis E Van den Bulck

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I Tsukrov R Verhoeven
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P Vas B Weiss
University of Aberdeen University of Vienna
UK Austria

S Walker T X Yu
Imperial College Hong Kong University of
UK Science & Technology
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S Yanniotis M Zamir
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Athens Ontario
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K Zakrzewski
Politechnika Lodzka
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This page intentionally left blank
Advanced Computational Methods in

Heat Transfer IX

Editors

B. Sundén
Lund University of Technology, Sweden

C. A. Brebbia
Wessex Institute of Technology, UK
B. Sundén
Lund Institute of Technology, Sweden

C. A. Brebbia
Wessex Institute of Technology, UK

Published by

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Ashurst Lodge, Ashurst, Southampton, SO40 7AA, UK
Tel: 44 (0) 238 029 3223; Fax: 44 (0) 238 029 2853
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For USA, Canada and Mexico

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Tel: 978 667 5841; Fax: 978 667 7582
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British Library Cataloguing-in-Publication Data

A Catalogue record for this book is available

from the British Library

ISBN: 1-84564-176-0
ISSN: 1746-4471 (print)
ISSN: 1743-3533 (online)

The texts of the papers in this volume were set individually

by the authors or under their supervision.
Only minor corrections to the text may have been carried
out by the publisher.

No responsibility is assumed by the Publisher, the Editors and Authors for any injury and/or
damage to persons or property as a matter of products liability, negligence or otherwise, or
from any use or operation of any methods, products, instructions or ideas contained in the
material herein.

© WIT Press 2006

Printed and bound in Great Britain by Athenaeum Press Ltd., Gateshead.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval
system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying,
recording, or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the Publisher.
 Preface

Research and developments of computational methods for solving and

understanding heat transfer problems continue to be important because heat transfer
topics are commonly of a complex nature and different mechanisms like heat
conduction, convection, turbulence, thermal radiation and phase change may occur
simultaneously. Although heat transfer might be regarded as an established and
mature scientific discipline, its role and relevance in sustainable development and
reduction of greenhouse gases as well as for micro- and nanoscale structures and
bio-engineering have been identified recently. Non-linear phenomena may, besides
the momentum transfer, appear due to temperature-dependent thermophysical
properties. In engineering design and development works, reliable and accurate
computational methods are requested to replace or complement expensive and time
comsuming experimental trial and error work. Tremendous advancements have been
achieved during recent years due to improved numerical solution approaches of
non-linear partial differential equations and computer developments to achieve
efficient and rapid calculations by parallelised computations on, e.g., PC-clusters.
Nevertheless, to further progress computational methods in heat transfer,
developments in theoretical and predictive procedures, both basic and innovative,
and applied research are needed. To validate the numerical calculations accurate
experimental investigations are needed.
This book contains the edited versions of the papers presented at the Ninth
International Conference on Advanced Computational Methods and Experimental
Measurements in Heat Transfer and Mass Transfer held in the New Forest, Ashurst
Lodge, Ashurst, UK in July 2006. The objective of this conference series is to
provide a forum for presentation and discussion of advanced topics, new approaches
and application of advanced computational methods and experimental measurements
to heat and mass transfer problems. All papers have been reproduced directly from
material submitted by the authors but an attempt has been made to use a unified
outline and methods of presentation for each paper. The contributed papers are
grouped in appropriate sections to provide better access for readers. The selected
sections show the wide range of applied and fundamental problems in the heat and
mass transfer field.
The editors would like to thank all the distinguished and wellknown scientists
who supported our efforts by serving in the International Scientific Advisory
Committee, reviewing the submitted abstracts and papers. The excellent administrative
work of the conference secretariat at WIT is greatly appreciated and the efficient co-
operation and encouragement by the staff at WIT Press contributed significantly in
producing the conference proceedings.

The Editors,
May 2006
 Contents

Section 1: Natural and forced convection

A discussion on finite-difference schemes for low Prandtl number

Rayleigh-Bénard convection
X. Luo & W.-K. Chen ............................................................................................3

A numerical study of the convective heat transfer between a room and

a window covered by a partially open plane blind with a gap at the top
P. H. Oosthuizen .................................................................................................13

An analytical solution to the Graetz problem with viscous dissipation

for non-Newtonian fluids
R. Chiba, M. Izumi & Y. Sugano .........................................................................23

Heat transfer by unsteady laminar mixed convection in 2-D ventilated

enclosures using the vorticity-stream function formulation
S. Boudebous & Z. Nemouchi .............................................................................33

Effect of roughness shape on heat transfer and flow friction characteristics

of solar air heater with roughened absorber plate
A. Chaube, P. K. Sahoo & S. C. Solanki .............................................................43

Study of conjugate heat transfer accompanying mixed convection in

a vertical tube submitted to a step of entry temperature
O. Kholai, M. Kadja & T. H. Mai .......................................................................53

Section 2: Advances in computational methods

An interaction of a sonic injection jet with a supersonic turbulent flow

approaching a re-entry vehicle to atmosphere
D. Sun & R. S. Amano .........................................................................................65
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her presence, and to hide his discomfort he redoubled his efforts to
be agreeable. Finding that no conversation was to be got out of
Mirelle, he finally turned his efforts to Orange, and endeavoured to
amuse her with his adventures at the little inns on his sketching tour.
But still, as he talked, his eyes reverted to the face of Mirelle,
and Orange's life returned in a throb of spleen. She rose in her seat
and said sharply, 'We will change places, if you please, Captain
Trecarrel.'
'Hush!' said he; 'do not disturb her. She sleeps.'
The fresh air puffing in her face, and the warm sun, after the
sleepless nights, had operated on the weary brain, and Mirelle had
dropped off into unconsciousness. Orange was aware of this without
looking round, by the confidence with which the Captain allowed his
eyes to rest on her face. Mirelle was breathing gently, and her face
had become wonderfully peaceful and deathlike under the influence
of sleep. The stray lock wantoned in the air on the pure white brow,
but could not wake her.
'Do you really wish to sit with your back to the horses?' asked
Trecarrel in an undertone. 'You will then have the sun in your eyes.'
'Yes, let us change places.' Her voice was metallic.
'Then, for the love of Heaven, do not wake her with moving.
Stay! here we are at a long hill. I will get out and walk up it to
relieve the horses, and then you can change without disturbing
Mirelle.'
'If you are going to walk, I will walk also.'
They both alighted at the bridge over the Walkham, and fell
behind the carriage. Trecarrel was uneasy; he feared that Orange
was going to speak to him unpleasantly, on an unpleasant subject.
 'She is so deficient in breeding,' said he to himself, 'that she
persists in forcing herself and what she regards as her wrongs upon
one.'
'How lovely she is!' exclaimed the Captain, with want of tact;
'but terribly fragile. She looks as if she were as likely never to wake
out of the sleep into which she has fallen, as she is again to unclose
her beautiful eyes.'
Orange made no answer. Her heart was beating; the rush of life
had returned to her veins. She walked at his side in silence for some
little way, then suddenly burst forth with, 'What is the meaning of
this, Captain Trecarrel?'
'The meaning of what, my good Orange? You must be more
explicit.'
'Why is Mirelle returning? How have you succeeded in changing
her from her purpose? What inducement have you held out to her to
lure her back to hated Welltown?'
'The highest, the purest of all,' answered the Captain, with
dignity. 'For what is higher and purer than duty?'
Orange looked round at him.
'What do you mean by that?' she asked harshly. 'Duty—duty to
whom?'
'To self—to conscience. I have pointed out to her obligations she
must not cast off.'
'Duty—obligations!' echoed Orange, roughly. 'What farce is this?
Have you turned preacher?'
'I have advised Mirelle as a friend. She has no one else capable
of giving her counsel.'
'Indeed! I am nothing!'
 'I beg your pardon, Orange. I do not ignore your high
qualifications for advising her as to her social duties; but when we
step out on moral ground, there I must beg leave to observe that
only one of her own faith is calculated to direct her.'
Orange stood still and stamped her foot. Her hands clenched
convulsively.
'Captain Trecarrel! do you suppose me such a fool as to believe
you when you take up this tone? I know you too well. I have
suffered too severely from your selfishness and cruelty not to know
that you are working in your own interest, disregarding everything
and every one save some mean and selfish aim. Captain Trecarrel,
you were bound to me by the most sacred vows, short of those
made at the altar; you took a base advantage of my misfortunes to
shake me off, when a man of honour and chivalry would have
blushed to desert me. I humbled myself before you into the dust. I
am covered with shame at the thought of such self-abasement
before one so unworthy. You were without feeling for me, without
love, without compassion, without generosity. After that you sought
me again, when I had fled from Launceston to conquer my own
heart in seclusion. You sought me out, you followed me to mv place
of retreat, to trifle with me again, to waken up in me what was
going to sleep, to torture me, and to sting me to madness. Take
care! take care! What have I done to you, that you should do this
great wrong to me? I was a good-hearted and gay girl, without gall
and bitterness, and you have turned my heart into a cauldron boiling
with furious and hateful passions. Take care, I say; take care lest
you drive me to desperation.'
'My dear, dear Orange——'
 'Have done with "my dear, dear Orange!"' she almost shouted.
The anger was boiling in her heart and puffing out the veins in her
throat and temples. 'I am "dear" to you no more. Captain Trecarrel,
you have had no mercy on me, and I appeal no more to you to
consider my wrongs; but I do appeal to you on behalf of Mirelle,
whom you so greatly admire, whom you profess to consider so
lovely, whom you are guiding in the way of moral obligation. Have
you no pity? Do you know to what you are driving her back? Can
you not let her alone and allow her to escape whilst she may? Her
heart is set on return to France and to her convent. Why should she
not follow her heart and go? Why should you stand in the way, and
lay your hand on her and arrest her? Let her go. It is not now too
late. Let her follow her own wishes and leave England. Do you not
see that, tossed as she has been into a turmoil of troubles, they are
killing her? It is a whirlpool sucking her in and suffocating her. Do
not you incur the guilt of her destruction, as well as mine, you moral
instructor! You have ruined my happiness, and with it my moral
sense. You are thrusting her back out of happiness into death. She
has been like a captive escaping from a dungeon, catching a glimpse
of sun and laughing for joy, and now you, as a savage gaoler, come
and drive her back into the rayless vault again, and cast a stone over
the door. Cruel! cruel man!' She panted for breath. 'See,' she
continued, 'see how fine the day is! The packet is now at sea with
her prow turned towards France. But for your interference Mirelle
would be on board, she would be standing on deck looking eagerly
forward to catch the first sight of the loved land, her heart beating
high with hope, her eye bright with returning happiness, her cheek
flushed with renovated life. Let her go back to Plymouth and take
the next packet.'
Captain Trecarrel said nothing, but, drawing a silk handkerchief
from his pocket, he dusted his boots and faintly hummed a tune.
Orange's passion increased at his insulting indifference.
'Captain Trecarrel,' she said, 'have you no regard for any one
but yourself? You think, do you, that some day Mirelle will be yours,
and with her all she has?'
'Orange,' said the Captain, coldly, 'as you pretend to know me, I
may return the compliment, and admit that I know you. Now what is
the meaning of this sudden sympathy with Mirelle? I know you do
not love her; I have eyes in my head which have long ago convinced
me that you do not even like her. This outbreak of zeal for her
welfare and happiness, I am led to believe, covers—as you were
pleased coarsely to remark to me—some selfish aim. And that aim I
can discern without difficulty. I understand,' he added with a sneer,
'that Mirelle had constituted you treasurer and agent and
plenipotentiary over all her property, landed and funded and
invested, with perfect liberty to deal with it as you listed, and
without any one to control your proceedings and check your
accounts. And that after her experience of how the Trampleasure
family deals in trust matters! O sancta simplicitas!'
Orange looked at him sullenly.
'Think so if you will, but I tell you you are mistaken.' She
stepped before him, barring his road, and held out her hands.
'Captain Trecarrel, I give you one chance more. Let her go. Send her
to her convent. Have pity upon both her and me.' Then her rage
swelled into a paroxysm; she grasped his shoulders with her strong
hands, and shook him. 'Captain Trecarrel, will you be advised, will
you be ruled? Do not think in your heart that ever she will be yours,
and Welltown joined to Trecarrel! That will never, never be. Let her
go. You alone can save her. The carriage has halted for us at the top
of the hill. Now call to the postilion to turn his horses and drive back
to Plymouth.'
Captain Trecarrel released himself, with a feeling of disgust at
her violence and ill-breeding.
'Let us catch up the carriage, Orange,' he said coldly: 'we have
dropped far behind. You are excited, and hot, and unreasonable. If
you wish to hear what directions I shall give to the driver, you must
wait.'
They walked on hastily, side by side, without speaking. Orange's
breath was like a flame between her lips.
The post-boy had drawn up the horses at the head of the hill.
As they prepared to step into the chaise, Captain Trecarrel remarked
—
'She is asleep still. Bless me, she looks as if she might sleep
away into death without those looking on being conscious of the
change.'
Orange took her place opposite Mirelle, and Captain Trecarrel
sat by the sleeper's side.
'You really wish this?' he asked of Orange.
'Yes; give the word to the post-boy,' she answered, looking him
hard in the face.
'Drive straight on,' shouted the Captain; 'we are ready.'
Orange sank back in her seat and said no more. Trecarrel
looked about him, and admired the richness of the scenery, as the
road descended to the beautiful valley of the Tavy, rich in woods,
with glimpses of granite moor ridges rising picturesquely above it,
and below the little town of Tavistock, with its grey church and
abbey nestling by the foaming moorland river. The scene was
charming, and the Captain wished he had time to sketch it.
Presently Mirelle woke—woke with a start and shiver.
'Orange!' she said, 'you frighten me. Why do you look at me in
that strange manner?'
'I did not know that I was looking at you at all,' answered
Orange, and she turned away her face.
'I am cold,' said Mirelle; 'we have our backs to the sun.'
'You have been asleep, and have become chilled,' said the
Captain, sympathetically. 'Let me wrap my warm cloak about your
shoulders; you must not catch cold. We are now half-way to
Launceston.'
Then Genefer murmured, 'The Lord put a lying spirit in the
mouth of the prophets, and they said unto Ahab, Go up unto
Ramoth Gilead and take it; and he went up and fell there. I cannot
see; my eyes are holden. The Lord hath not spoken unto me by
word or sign or revelation, and I know not if I counselled right when
I said, Return.'
Nothing of interest and worthy of record occurred during the
rest of the journey. Mirelle was brighter, refreshed by her sleep, and
she tried to enter into conversation with the Captain, but Orange
remained obdurately mute. At the gate of Launceston Trecarrel
descended and offered profuse thanks to Mirelle for the drive which
had saved him the expense of coaching home. The evening had
fallen and it was dusk; the chaise was driven rapidly into the gate of
Dolbeare, and drew up on the terrace.
The house was locked; no one now lived in it. Orange had taken
the key with her to Plymouth; she handed it to Genefer, whilst the
post-boy let down the steps, and she descended. Genefer went, with
the key in her hand, towards the door, when suddenly she stopped,
uttered a cry of terror, and fell back.
'What is the matter?' asked Orange, impatiently.
'Do'y see un? Do'y see un? There he stands.'
'Who? what? No one is there,' answered Orange in a tone of
irritation. 'You foolish woman, go on.
'I see an old man in red; he be there standing with his walking-
stick waving it, and signing to us not to come in. He has his hand
out, as though to thrust us back. He stands in the doorway.'
'This is sheer crazy folly,' exclaimed Orange. 'Here, give me the
key!' She snatched it from Genefer's hand, and thrusting her aside
went forward.
Genefer turned her head and uttered another cry. Mirelle had
fainted.
'She saw him too, I reckon—that man in a red coat, with the
white hair and the gold-headed cane,' said the old woman. 'O Lord,
enlighten me! What be the meaning of all this, I cannot tell.'
Orange threw the house door open, and the unconscious Mirelle
was borne into the hall by Genefer and the post-boy, and placed in
an arm-chair, where she gradually recovered.
'I'll be quick, darling,' said Genefer, 'and get a fire lighted and
something warm, and I'll bring you your supper up to your own
room.'
 'You are over tired,' said Orange. 'Genefer is right; go to bed.'
When the Trampleasures had removed to Welltown nothing
definite was settled as to where they would permanently take up
their abode; the furniture and all the contents of Dolbeare had
therefore been left there undisturbed, to be removed should they
elect to live elsewhere. It was convenient to them to have the house
in condition to receive them at any time for a short or lengthy stay
as suited them. On their way to Plymouth Mirelle and Orange had
spent the night there, and Genefer had attended to their
requirements. Now that they had returned, the old servant's hands
were full of work. She lighted the fire in the kitchen and in the
dining-room, filled the kettle and set it on to boil, and began to
prepare for supper. This occupied some time, during which she was
unable to attend to Mirelle. When the supper was ready she brought
it into the dining-room, and found Orange there seated musing by
the hearth.
'How be the mistress now?' asked Grenefer.
'I do not know. I have not been upstairs.'
Genefer looked up at the pastille portrait above her head, and
said, 'Him it was that I saw in the doorway with a warning wave of
the hand, and he sought to bar the door entrance with the stick,
that we might not come in. I durst not have passed, but when you
went forward, Miss Orange, then he seemed to vanish away like
smoke. I reckon the mistress saw un too, for her fainted with fright
at the same moment. Did'y ever hear, now, who he might be?'
'No, I know nothing of him,' answered Orange, shortly.
'I reckon he don't come for naught,' said Genefer. 'But a veil is
on my face in the reading of events, as there be on the hearts of the
Jews in the study of Scripture, and till that veil be taken away I see
naught plain.'
'Go about your work,' said Orange, impatiently, 'and do not
trouble me with your foolish fancies.'
Genefer looked at Orange, and shook her head, and muttered,
'There be some folks like the fleece of Gideon on which the dew
never falls though the grass around be wet.'
Then she prepared a tray, and carried some supper upstairs to
Mirelle. 'Ah!' she continued, 'and there be others on whom the dew
drops in plenty whilst all around is dry.'
She found her mistress seated in a high-backed, old-fashioned
chair covered with red baize. She had her shawl wrapped about her.
'There, my pretty,' said the old woman; 'see, I've a brought you
something at last.'
'Oh, Geneviève, I am very cold,' said Mirelle.
'Shall I light the fire, darling?'
'I should like it. I do not think I am well. I am exhausted, and
sick at heart. Feel my hand how it shakes.'
Genefer took the little white hand between her own, stroked it,
raised it to her lips and kissed it.
'You love me, Geneviève?' Mirelle lifted her large eyes and
looked earnestly into the old woman's face.
'Ah, I do, I do, sure-ly.'
'I am so glad, Geneviève, because I do not think there are many
who love me.'
'Do'y think it was the red man in the doorway that frightened
you?' asked Genefer. 'You seed un, did you not?'
 'I do not know,' answered Mirelle. 'I hardly remember what
occurred. I had a sense of a great wave of terror coming over me,
but what caused it I no more remember, for my consciousness went
from me.'
'He've a got a kindly enough face, there be no vice in it,' said
Genefer, as she knelt at the hearth and was engaged on the fire. 'I
reckon he don't walk for naught; it ain't only the bad as wanders.
Samuel appeared to Saul before the battle of Gilboa. Many of the
saints that slept arose, and appeared in the holy city. We have
Scripture to show that it be not the bad only as walks. I've a seen
my mother scores of times, and her were a God-fearing woman. But
father were a darning blaspheming drunkard, and I've never seen
him once. I reckon the red man were a peaceable sort of a chap,
and if he walks, 'tain't along of his sins, but because he be sent to
fulfil the wise purposes of Heaven.'
Genefer put the poker against the bars of the grate.
'There, mistress, I hope you'll be warmer soon, but the kindling
be damp and the chimney has cold air in it, and the fire won't draw
kindly. Now I must go.'
'Oh, Geneviève, must you really go? I do not like to be alone, I
am frightened.'
'Is it the red man you fear? Do'y think he'll walk through the
room while you be lying in bed? Lord bless'y, I think naught of such
spirits. It be the black devils is the chaps to scare one; I've a seed
them and hunted 'em many a time.'
'No,' said Mirelle, 'I am not afraid of him. I do not know exactly
what I fear, but something that I cannot describe has come over me.
Oh, Geneviève, I wish that you could sleep in this room with me.'
 'I don't see how to manage that, my dear. I couldn't move my
bed myself up here. But you've no occasion for it, neither. There be
Miss Orange close at hand, and only a door between. You ask her,
and her'll leave the door open between you.'
'No, no,' said Mirelle, nervously. 'Could you fasten that door,
Geneviève?'
'Which? There be but two doors, one is on to the landing, and
the other into Miss Orange's bedroom.'
'I mean the latter door.'
Genefer went to it.
'I cannot fasten it. It be locked already, and the key on the
other side.'
'Is there no bolt?'
'No, mistress.'
'Never mind, it cannot be helped,' with a sigh.
Then the lock was turned, the door opened, and Orange came
through carrying a bolster.
'You like to lie with your head well raised. I have brought you
this; you will sleep the sounder for it.'
Then she went up to Mirelle's bed and placed it with the pillows.
'Thank you, Orange. How very kind and thoughtful you are!'
said Mirelle.
Orange went up to her. Orange had lost her colour, and a hard,
restrained look had come over her face.
'How are you now?'
'A little better; not much. I feel very cold.'
'It is heart,' said Orange, 'that ails you. That will stop some day
—or night. Stop in a moment when least expected.' And without
another word she went back through her door and re-locked it.
'Shall I unpack your box, mistress?' asked the old woman. 'It
won't do for you to stoop. It might bring the swimming in your head
again. It is only for me to stay up a bit later to finish the housework.'
'Thank you, dear, kind Geneviève. I am much obliged, I shall be
very glad of it.'
Genefer uncorded and unlocked the trunk and removed from it
what she thought would be necessary for the night.
'Shall I bring out this Christ on the cross?' she asked, holding up
the crucifix Herring had bought for his bride.
'Oh, please do so. I shall be glad to have it.'
'Ah!' said the old woman, 'if the fear and sickness of heart come
over you again, you can look to that and take comfort. I be not that
set against images such as this, that I would forbid and destroy
them. Since you've been to Welltown I've a looked on this here
many scores of times, and it have done me a deal of good, it have.'
Then she planted the crucifix in the middle of a small table at
the head of the bed, between a couple of wax lights that were
burning there.
Mirelle shivered. 'Oh, Geneviève! what have you done? Do you
know that with us we put a crucifix and candles in that way at the
head of a bed where some one is lying dead?'
'Let be,' said Genefer. 'Sleep is a figure of death, and if you
cannot sleep under the cross you are not fit to die under it.
Remember what Miss Orange said. You suffer from the heart, and it
may stop at any hour; so be always ready.' She went again to the
hearth. 'Drat the fire, it won't burn, leastwise not readily; there be
too much cold air in the flue. There, mistress, now I must go; I've
my work to do downstairs.'
'May I have a rushlight for the night, Geneviève?'
'My dear, there be none in the house; I'd go gladly and fetch
you one, but the shops be all shut in the town. There, good night,
and God be with you.'
'Where do you sleep, Geneviève?'
'At the far end of the house, up the other flight of stairs.'
'If I should want you? If I should call in the night?' Mirelle
looked anxiously, pleadingly at her.
'My darling, it would be no good. I should never hear. But what
do that matter? Miss Orange be close at hand, and you've but to call
if you feel ill, and her'll run and wake me up, and I'll go for the
doctor fast as lightning, so there, don't'y fear any more.'
Mirelle sighed. 'Give me a kiss, Geneviève, before you go.'
'With all my heart, precious!' and the old woman kissed her
fondly on the cheek, and then raised and kissed both her hands in
succession.
Then Genefer left. It was not possible for her to tarry longer
with Mirelle. There was much that had to be done: the supper things
to be removed and washed up, some kindling to be got ready for the
fire next morning; the kitchen fire to be put out, and a little tidying
to be done in the parlour and the hall. Genefer would have enough
to do next morning, getting breakfast ready, and she would leave
nothing till then that she could possibly get done that night.
Whilst she was in the dining-room clearing away the supper
things, she looked hard at the pastille portrait.
 'Whatever did the old man mean by walking, and standing in
the doorway with that warning gesture?'
She stood in front of the picture for some time, trying to
decipher something in it which escaped her. At last, hopeless of
discovering what she sought, she resumed her work.
'There, there!' she said, 'I've been wasting the one bit of candle
I have, and her'll hardly last me out all I have to do. Whatever be
hidden now from me, the day will bring forth.'
After the old woman had finished the washing-up in the kitchen
and had extinguished that fire and raked out the fire in the parlour,
she went into the hall, which was littered with packages, boxes,
trunks, cloaks, and calashes. Genefer disliked disorder, and she set
to work putting the sundry articles into some sort of order, though
the next day all would again be removed to the carriage for the
continuation of the return journey to Welltown.
'I wonder what time of night it be!' she said, as she looked up
at the clock. 'Twelve! But no, sure it cannot be. Her's not ticking.
Her's standing still. To be sure, her's not been wounded up for ever
so long. Loramussy! the candle will never last me out. I shall have to
go to bed in the dark, and that ain't pleasant where there be spirits
of dead men walking. But'—she shook herself—'is that seemly of
thee, Genefer Benoke, to be afeared of spirits? The Lord is my light
and my salvation, whom shall I fear? The Lord is the strength of my
life, of whom shall I be afraid?'
Genefer's confidence was somewhat shaken by hearing a door
opened, and by seeing a white figure on the stairs, slowly
descending.
 'Lord, mistress!' she said, after she had recovered from the first
shock of alarm, when she recognised Mirelle; 'sure enough you did
give me a turn.'
Mirelle was in her long white nightdress, her dark hair was
unbound, and fell over her shoulders. The white, delicate feet were
bare.
'What be the matter, darling?'
Mirelle took each step on the stair hesitatingly, with foot poised
before her, as though feeling in the air, before she lowered it. She
descended in this way very leisurely, as one walking in a dream, or
one blind, groping the way in an unknown place. Her hand was on
the banister, and the bar trembled.
She reached the landing, and stood under the clock. She made
no attempt to descend farther.
'Oh, Geneviève, the fire is gone out.'
'I reckon the wood were damp,' said the old woman. 'It be too
late, and not possible to light it again now.'
'And the candles are flickering in their sockets.'
'There is not another in the house. Look at mine.'
'It will be so dark.'
'Do not be afraid. The Lord will give you light.'
'It will be so cold.'
'You will be warm in bed.'
'O no! it is colder there than outside.'
She remained without speaking, waiting for Genefer to say
something, but the old woman offered no remark, not knowing what
to say.
 Still she stood there, hesitating, and the banister rattled under
her hand laid on it.
'There, there!' said Genefer, 'lie down and shut your eyes, and
you will soon be asleep.'
'I cannot sleep.'
She still stood there, irresolute.
'Is the fire burning in the parlour? I should like to go in there,
and sit there.'
'I've just put him out.'
'Then—that in the kitchen.'
'He's out likewise. There, there, go to bed like a good dear.
There is no help—it must be.'
'Geneviève, I asked Mr. John Herring to send you away. You
frightened me. I am very sorry. Will you forgive me for doing so?'
'To be sure I will. I am not one to bear malice.'
'Do you really think, Geneviève, that he is alive?'
'I do. I cannot doubt it.'
'Oh, promise me, if ever you see him, and I not, tell him'—she
paused—'tell him that now I wish, with all my heart, I had loved him
as he deserved.'
Then she went upstairs again, in the same slow, reluctant
manner, step by step, ascending backward, feeling each step behind
her with her bare foot before planting it, and raising herself to the
higher level, and she kept her eyes fixed on Genefer as though
dreading to lose sight of her. At last Mirelle's hand, feeling behind
her, touched the latch of her door, and the chill of the metal sent a
shiver through her.
 Slowly, very slowly, she pressed the door open behind her,
walking backwards still, with a sad despairing look in her large dark
eyes fixed on Genefer.
And Genefer, standing below, said, 'Sweetheart, go to your bed,
and, MAY YOU REST IN PEACE!'

CHAPTER LIX.
DIVIDING THE SPOILS.

'Never was more shocked in my life!' said Captain Trecarrel; 'I really
have not recovered it yet. So young, so beautiful, so good! and you,
my sweet Orange, I observe, are greatly overcome. It does you
credit; it does, upon my life.'
Captain Trecarrel was seated in the parlour at Dolbeare with
Orange; the latter was looking haggard and wretched. 'And it was
heart that did it,' said the Captain; 'I always said that heart was her
weak point, and that it must be economised to the utmost, spared
all excitement, everything distressing. There has always been that
transparent look about her flesh that is a sure sign of the heart
being wrong. Poor angel! I have no doubt in the world that she was
greatly tried. She has not been happy ever since she came to
England; one thing or another has risen up to distress her,
circumstances have conspired to keep her in incessant nervous
tension. She felt the death of poor John Herring severely; that alone
was enough to kill her. Do not take on so much, Orange; there is
moderation in all things, even in sorrow for the dead.'
 'Leave me alone,' said Orange, hoarsely. 'Do not notice me.'
'I see this painful occurrence has shaken you,' continued
Captain Trecarrel. 'I knew you regarded her; I had no idea that you
loved her. Indeed——'
'Leave me alone,' said Orange, emphatically.
'Well, well! When will be the funeral?'
'To-morrow.'
'I shall certainly attend, to show the last tribute of respect to
one whom I greatly esteemed. Indeed I may say that next to you,
Orange, I never admired any woman so much. She has taught us
one lesson, poor thing, and that is not to trifle with the heart, which
is a most susceptible organ, and must be guarded against strong
feeling and excitement. Do not be so troubled about this matter,
Orange; it is bad for the health, over much sorrow debilitates the
constitution. You are really not looking yourself. Think that every
cloud has its silver lining, and this fleeting affliction, I make no
scruple to affirm, is trimmed throughout with gold. Have you
reversed it? Have you studied the other side? Have you looked into
matters at all?'
'What matters?'
'Well, to put it broadly, pecuniary matters. One is reluctant to
advert to such things at such a solemn time, but it is necessary. The
sweet luxury of grief cannot be indulged in till these concerns are
settled, and they considerably accentuate or moderate it. You and I,
Orange, are practical persons: we feel for what we have lost, but we
do not let slip the present or overlook the future. You are her
nearest of kin, and therefore of course everything she had will fall to
you. By the greatest good luck her husband predeceased, and
Welltown came to her, and from her will doubtless pass to you.
Beside Welltown, what was she worth?'
'I do not know—I do not care,' answered Orange, in a tone of
mingled impatience and indifference.
'This will not do, Orange,' said Captain Trecarrel; 'you really
must not succumb. Good taste imposes its limits on sorrow as on
joy. If you come in for ten thousand pounds you do not dance and
shout, and if you lose a friend you do not sink into the abyss of sulky
misery—that is, if you make any pretence to good breeding. I know
what a sensible, practical girl you are. Come, pluck up heart and
help me to look into her concerns. I have done my best, my very
best, for you so far, and I will not desert you now. The moment I
heard of the event I flew to your assistance, I offered my aid, and I
have been invaluable to you. You cannot dispute it. But for me there
might have been an inquest, which would have been offensive to
your delicacy of sentiment. I explained to the doctor her
constitution, and the troubles she has gone through; how she felt
her husband's sudden death, the languor that has since oppressed
her, her fainting fits, the swoon into which she fell after her
exhausting journey; and he saw at once that heart was at the
bottom of it all. I settled with the undertaker, saw to everything,
made every arrangement, and you have not been troubled in the
least. I even went after the milliner about your mourning. You
cannot deny that I have been of service to you, and I am ready to
do more. All that is nothing: now comes the most trying and difficult
task of all—the settlement of her affairs; but I am ready to
undertake that also, to save my dear Orange trouble, only I ask, as a
preliminary, that all the requisite information shall be placed at my
disposal.'
'Later,' said Orange, uneasily; 'after the funeral.'
'No,' answered Captain Trecarrel, 'not after the funeral, but now.
My time is valuable. I shall have to go to Exeter in three days, and I
should like to have everything ready to take with me. If there be a
will, which I do not suppose there is, I will prove it for you. If there
be not, I will obtain letters of administration for you. You must really
let me know what her estate was worth. Have you the means of
ascertaining?'
'I do not know.'
'But you must know, or rather you must put me in the way of
ascertaining. Have you looked whether there is a will?'
'No, I have not.'
'Have you got her desk?'
'It is upstairs.'
'Bring it down, and we will overhaul it together.'
Orange rose and left the room. She returned a few minutes
later, with the large desk that had belonged to Mr. Strange, and after
his death had been appropriated by Mirelle. Mirelle had removed
from it all his Portuguese letters, tied them in bundles and put them
away, and had transferred to it her own treasures from a school
writing-desk full to overflowing. It was a strange thing that this desk
was thus explored in search of a will at so small an interval of time
since we saw John Herring seated at it, at the opening of this story.
'This is the sort of thing I detest,' said the Captain. 'It jars with
one's feelings and vulgarises bereavement. However, it does not
become us to give way to our emotions, we must do our duty. Give
me the key.'
He unlocked the desk, and turned over the contents; he
removed many articles and placed them on the table. What trifles
were there!—trifles that had been collected at school and were
preserved as treasures, each made precious by some innocent
association and sunny memory. A little book in which her school
companions had inscribed verses and signed their names. Wrapped
up in silver paper and tied with white silk, a lock of hair from the
head of Marie de la Meillerie, cut on the day of her first Communion.
In a pill-box a raisin out of Mirelle's birthday cake, many years old.
Some lace-edged pictures of saints, spangled red, and blue, and
gold with foil stars, a medal of Notre-Dame de Bon Secours; some
feathers off a pet bullfinch that had died and cost many tears, a twig
of blessed palm, John Herring's notes, and some little presents he
had made her—but not one relic of Captain Trecarrel—all such had
been burned on her marriage, she had kept them till then. Also a
little deal box in which, softly nested in cotton-wool, was a glass
peacock with spun glass tail—a memorial of one happy day spent at
the house of the Countess La Gaye, who had taken Mirelle and her
daughters to see a glass-blower, and the man had made the peacock
under their eyes, and had presented it to Mirelle. All this rubbish
Captain Trecarrel tossed aside carelessly. If it ever had any value, it
had it only to her who could appreciate those trifles no more. Then
he pounced, with trembling hand, on a paper in John Herring's
handwriting statement of the property of the Countess Mirelle Garcia
de Cantalejo; and with it a much larger paper in many folds. He
opened this latter, glanced at it, and tossed it aside with an
expression of disgust. It was a pedigree of the family of Garcia de
Cantalejo with heraldic blazonings. The smaller paper soon
engrossed his whole attention; Captain Trecarrel's eyes opened very
wide. John Herring's confession was not there. Mirelle had destroyed
it, lest it should ever be seen by any one but herself. She had,
however, preserved the statement.
'My dear Orange!—my dear, dear Orange!' his voice shook with
emotion and excitement. 'I had no idea that the lining was so warm
and so rich. There are the West Wyke mortgages, there is a silver
lead mine, about which I knew nothing—well, I was aware some
time ago that he was paddling in something of the sort near Ophir,
but I did not know that it was being worked; when I heard of it, it
was not begun. Then there are uncut diamonds. Bless my soul!
uncut diamonds! How did they escape the fingers of your excellent
father, I wonder? Where can they be? Oh, I see, at the bank. We
must take out letters of administration to authorise you to withdraw
and realise. Why, Orange! my dear, dear, dear Orange,' he put his
hand under the table, took that of Miss Trampleasure, and pressed it
with fervent affection; 'the barrier that has stood between us has
fallen. Happiness is in view before us. You will forgive and forget any
little past lovers' quarrels. Amantium iræ amoris integratio est, as
the syntax says. Let me tott all up as well as I can. Welltown is
worth six hundred nett, as far as I can judge, and it is
unencumbered. Then there are your five thousand, which will bring
in, say, two hundred and fifty. It is impossible for me to estimate the
value of Mirelle's own property, as the silver lead mine is only now
beginning to give dividends, I suppose—I see by the paper that
money has been sunk, and there is no entry of return, but then
Upaver is quite a new affair. What it is worth I cannot conjecture.
Then there are the West Wyke mortgages, and the uncut diamonds,
and I suppose money in the bank. The estate must be worth at least
a thousand per annum, without including Welltown. My dear, dear,
dear Orange, my heart overflows with affection. I will tell you,
Orange, what will be the best plan of all for both of us. Let us get a
special licence and be married at the earliest time possible, privately,
of course, because of the affliction under which you are suffering,
and then I can manage all the matter of Mirelle's estate with the
utmost simplicity, as my own. It will save a world of trouble, and
possibly some expense. By Jove! this is not all. We had left out of
our calculation the set of diamonds. Where is it? Oh, here it is in its
étui on the other side of the desk. Orange, do look at the stones!
they are magnificent. They must be worth a great deal of money. I
am no judge of stones, but these strike my uninitiated eye as being
of the purest water—not a tinge of yellow, not a flaw in them. I can
see this, Orange, that our income is likely to be some two thousand
a year. I could cry tears of joy at the thought. Did you ever hear
anything so ridiculous as the supposition that John Herring had
committed suicide with this set of diamonds in his pocket? The thing
is psychologically impossible. With such a source of wealth in one's
pocket one would begin to live; all previous existence would be
tadpolism, now only would one stretch out legs and arms and begin
to jump. My dear, dear Orange, I do believe that you and I are only
now about to sip the nectar of life. Here—try on these jewels.'
'I had rather not,' said Orange, shrinking back.
'I insist. I want to see you in them. Lord bless you! they never
could become that pale little thing; colour, warmth, flesh and life are
wanted to carry this. Here, Orange, let me try it on.'
He rose to put the diamond chain about her neck, when a hand
interposed and grasped it.
Trecarrel and Orange looked round, startled, and saw John
Herring standing before them, with hard, bitter face, very pale, with
contracted brows. He had entered the room without their hearing
him. The Captain had been too much engrossed in his discoveries to
have ear for his footfall on the carpet, and Orange too abstracted in
her own gloomy thoughts.
At the sight of Herring, Trecarrel drew back, and his jaw fell. He
looked at Herring, then at Orange, then at the diamonds, and, lastly,
at the schedule of Mirelle's property.
'By heavens!' he gasped. 'Confound it! you alive! Then Orange is
only worth five thousand.'
Orange had recoiled into a corner, blank, trembling, speechless.
Herring was perfectly collected.
'Put everything down,' he said in hard tones. 'Do not lay finger
on anything again. Leave the house at once.' He looked at the
Captain with contempt and anger.
'And you, Orange Trampleasure, already engaged in dividing the
spoils of the dead before she is laid in her grave! You will find a
carriage at the gate. Rejoin your mother at Welltown, and leave me
in the house alone with Genefer and—my wife. I cannot suffer
another presence here.'
He gathered the little scattered trifles together, the lock of hair,
the raisin, the glass peacock, the tinsel pictures, with soft and
reverent touch, and placed all together in the desk. The jewels he
re-laid in their étui, and relegated it to its proper compartment. Then
he locked up the desk. His face was cold, collected, with hard lines
about the mouth, and a hard look in the eyes, in which no sign of a
tear was manifest. He removed the desk to a shelf in the cabinet,
then he went out and ascended the stairs.
At the sound of his step, a door at the head of the staircase
opened, and Genefer came out, with her eyes red, and tears
glittering on her cheek.
'It be you, to last, Master John. I knew it. I knew you wasn't
dead. God be praised! Even out of the belly of the whale; when the
waters compass me about, even to the soul; when the depth hath
closed me round about, and the weeds are wrapped about my head.
I will say, Salvation is of the Lord.'
Herring was about to pass her, but she stayed him, barring the
door, looking hard into his face.
'Oh, Master John! you must not go in looking like that, as the
fleece of Gideon without dew. Stay and let me tell you, afore you
see the sweet flower of God, His white lily, what was her message to
you, the last words her uttered in this world. Her was standing
where I be now, and her said to me: "Promise me, if ever you see
him, to tell him that I wish with all my heart I had loved him as he
deserves." That were the olive leaf in the mouth of the dove as her
flew back to the ark.'
The old woman opened the door and went forward, leading the
way, with her arms uplifted, saying, 'The dove found no rest for the
sole of her foot, and she returned into the ark, for the waters were
on the face of the whole earth: then He put forth His hand, and took
her, and pulled her in unto Him into the ark.' As the old woman said
these last words, she touched the crucifix and the right, transfixed
hand of the figure on it.
The white blinds were down in the room, the atmosphere was
sweet with the scent of violets. At the head of the little bed was a
table covered with a linen cloth, and the crucifix between bunches of
white flowers and lighted wax candles was on it. Upon the bed lay
Mirelle, her face as the purest wax, and a wreath of white and
purple violets round her head, woven by the loving hands of old
Genefer. The hands, contrary to the usual custom, were crossed over
the breast. Genefer had seen this on a monument 'of the old
Romans,' and she had thus arranged the hands of Mirelle, thinking it
would be right so for her.
Herring stood by the bed looking at the pure face. Then he
signed with one hand to Genefer to leave. The old woman went out
softly. Herring still looked, and drawing forth a little case opened it
and took out a sprig of white heath and laid it in the bosom of his
dead wife.
'Mirelle! once you refused it when I offered it you, once you
refused it when offered you by Trecarrel, now you will keep and
carry with you into eternity my good luck which I now give you.'

CHAPTER LX.
INTRODUCTORY.

Several weeks had passed. John Herring was back at West Wyke,
grave, calm, with a gentle expression in his face and a far-off look in
his eyes. The hardness and bitterness had gone, never to return.
The Snow Bride would not freeze him to ice. He, in time, would thaw
away like her. On his first return to West Wyke he had come back
with blasted hopes, on his second with dislocated faith. Now he
returned with recovered moral balance, not indeed hopeful, for hope
is a delusion of youth, but able to look life in the face without a
sneer.
Cicely received him with her usual brightness and sympathy. It
was always pleasant to see her kind, sweet face, and to know what
a good and honest heart beat in her bosom.
Herring had never been to her other than uncommunicative,
partly out of natural modesty, partly because they were out of
harmony over Mirelle. But Cicely had a woman's curiosity, and would
not be left in the dark as to what had taken place; and she felt real
sympathy for John Herring, only she did not know how to exhibit it,
because she did not know what course it should take. So she put to
him questions, and with tact drew from him the entire story.
'Where does she lie, John?' she asked in her soft tones, full of
tender feeling for his sorrow. They were sitting together in the
porch, looking out on the old walled garden, with its honesty, and
white rocket, and love-lies-bleeding all ablow. 'Have you laid her in
Launceston churchyard, or removed her to Welltown?'
He shook his head. 'No, Cicely. Neither under the shadow of
Launceston church, nor exposed to the winds and roar of Boscastle.
She lies in the sunny cemetery of the Sacré Coeur.'
Cicely said nothing. Indeed, neither spoke for some time.
Presently, however, Cicely, who had laid her needlework in her lap,
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