otive for this
sudden separation.

He lost the light of her face till the evening. Then matters took another
turn; she was too polite. Ceremony and courtesy appeared to be gradually
encroaching upon tender friendship and familiarity. Yet, now and then,
her soft hazel eyes seemed to turn on him in silence, and say, forgive me
all this. Then, at those sweet looks, love and forgiveness poured out of
his eyes. And then hers sought the ground. And this was generally
followed by a certain mixture of stiffness, timidity and formality too
subtle to describe.

The much-enduring man began to lose patience.

"This is caprice," said he. "Cruel caprice."

Our female readers will probably take a deeper view of it than that.
Whatever it was, another change was at hand. Since he was so exposed to
the weather on the reef, Hazel had never been free from pain; but he had
done his best to work it off. He had collected all the valuables from the
wreck, made a new mast, set up a rude capstan to draw the boat ashore,
and cut a little dock for her at low water, and clayed it in the full
heat of the sun; and, having accomplished this drudgery, he got at last
to his labor of love; he opened a quantity of pearl oysters, fed Tommy
and the duck with them, and began the great work of lining the cavern
with them. The said cavern was somewhat shell-shaped, and his idea was to
make it out of a gloomy cavern into a vast shell, lined entirely, roof
and sides, with glorious, sweet, prismatic mother-of-pearl, fresh from
ocean. Well, one morning, while Helen was in the jungle, he made a cement
of guano, sand, clay and water, nipped some shells to a shape with the
pincers, and cemented them neatly, like mosaic almost; but in the middle
of his work he was cut down by the disorder he had combated so stoutly.
He fairly gave in, and sat down groaning with pain. And in this state
Helen found him.

"Oh, what is the matter?" said she.

He told her the truth, and said he had violent pains in the back and
head. She did not say much, but she turned pale. She bustled and lighted
a great fire, and made him lie down by it. She propped his head up; she
set water on to boil for him, and would not let him move for anything;
and all the time her features were brimful of the loveliest concern. He
could not help thinking how much better it was to be ill and in pain, and
have her so kind, than to be well, and see her cold and distant. Toward
evening he got better, or rat