She speedily reached her own abode,—a little cottage, standing in the outskirts of the village. On a small shelf near the foot of the bed stood a couple of empty phials, a cracked ewer and basin, a brown jug without a handle, a small tin coffee-pot without a spout, a saucer of rouge, a fragment of looking-glass, and a flask, labelled "Rosa Solis. ‘I am glad it is you, because you can help me. What’s the name of the happy man?” Gwen owned to “Fortescue. Outside in the hall he paused and thoughtfully stroked his smooth blue chin.
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