were taken down; altogether there seemed to be a comprehensive
cleaning going on. At that moment Mr. Hillary passed, and Val arrested
him, pointing to the Rectory.

"Yes, they are having a cleansing and purification. The family went away
this morning."

"Went where?" exclaimed Hartledon, in amazement.

"Dr. Ashton has taken a cottage near Ventnor."

"Had Mrs. Ashton quite recovered?"

"Quite: or they would not have gone. The Rectory has had a clean bill of
health for some time past."

"Then why did they not let me know it?" exclaimed Val, in his
astonishment and anger.

"Perhaps you didn't ask," said the surgeon. "But no visitors were sought.
Time enough for that when the house shall have been fumigated."

"They might have sent to me," he cried, in resentment. "To go away and
never let me know it!"

"They may have thought you were too agreeably engaged to care to be
disturbed," remarked the surgeon.

"What do you mean?" demanded Val, hotly.

Mr. Hillary laughed. "People will talk, you know; and rumour has it that
Lord Hartledon has found attractions in his own home, whilst the Rectory
was debarred to him."

Val wheeled round on his heel, and walked away in displeasure. Home
truths are never palatable. But the kindly disposition of the man resumed
its sway immediately: he turned back, and pointed to the shed.

"Is that interesting patient of yours on his legs again?"

"He is getting better. The disease attacked him fiercely and was
unusually prolonged. It's strange he should have been the only one to
take it."

"Gum's wife has been nursing him, I hear?"

"She has gone in and out to do such necessary offices as the sick
require. I put it to her from a Christian point of view, you see, and on
the score of humanity. She was at hand; and that's a great thing where
the nurse is only a visiting one."

"Look here, Hillary; don't let the man want for anything; see that he has
all he needs. He is a black sheep, no doubt; but illness levels us all to
one standard. Good day."

"Good day, Lord Hartledon."

And when the surgeon had got to a distance with his quick step, Lord
Hartledon turned back to the Rectory.

CHAPTER XV.

VAL'S DILEMMA.

It was a mild day in spring. The air was balmy, but the skies were grey
and lowering; and as a gentleman strolled across a field adjoining
Hartledon Park he looked up at them more than once, as if asking whether
they threatened rain.

Not that he had any gr