n
to marry a Chiltern had been her motive! There had been a sketch of
Chiltern's career, in carefully veiled but thoroughly comprehensible
language, which might have made a Bluebeard shudder. This, of course,
she bore best of all; or, let it be said rather, that it cost her the
least suffering. Was it not she who had changed and redeemed him?

What tortured her most was the intimation that Chiltern's family
connections were bringing pressure to bear upon him to save him from
this supremest of all his follies. And when she thought of this the
strange eyes and baffling expression of Mrs. Grainger rose before her.
Was it true? And if true, would Chiltern resist, even as she, Honora,
had resisted, loyally? Might this love for her not be another of his mad
caprices?

How Honora hated herself for the thought that thus insistently returned
at this period of snows and blasts! It was January. Had he seen the
newspapers? He had not, for he was cruising: he had, for of course
they had been sent him. And he must have received, from his relatives,
protesting letters. A fortnight passed, and her mail contained nothing
from him! Perhaps something had happened to his yacht! Visions of
shipwreck cause her to scan the newspapers for storms at sea,--but the
shipwreck that haunted her most was that of her happiness. How easy it
is to doubt in exile, with happiness so far away! One morning, when the
wind dashed the snow against her windows, she found it impossible to
rise.

If the big doctor suspected the cause of her illness, Mathilde knew
it. The maid tended her day and night, and sought, with the tact of her
nation, to console and reassure her. The little woman next door came and
sat by her bedside. Cruel and infinitely happy little woman, filled with
compassion, who brought delicacies in the making of which she had spent
precious hours, and which Honora could not eat! The Lord, when he had
made Mrs. Mayo, had mercifully withheld the gift of imagination. One
topic filled her, she lived to one end: her Alpha and Omega were husband
and children, and she talked continually of their goodness and badness,
of their illnesses, of their health, of their likes and dislikes, of
their accomplishments and defects, until one day a surprising thing
happened. Surprising for Mrs. Mayo.

"Oh, don't!" cried Honora, suddenly. "Oh, don't! I can't bear it."

"What is it?" cried Mrs. Mayo, frightened out of her wits. "A turn?
Shall I telephone for the d