wrong now?"

"That's what you ought to have ascertained, Pepps, not me. What d'you
mean by your neglect? What, I ask, does she lie in bed for? If her
heart's right, there's nothing more the matter with her than there is
with you."

"Perhaps your ladyship can persuade Lady Hartledon to exert herself,"
suggested the bland doctor. "I can't; and I confess I think that she only
wants rousing."

With a flourish of his hat and his small gold-headed black cane the
doctor bowed himself out from the formidable dowager. That lady turned
her back upon him, and betook herself on the spur of the moment to
Maude's room, determined to "have it out."

Curious sounds greeted her, as of some one in hysterical pain. On the
bed, clasped to his mother in nervous agony, was the wondering child,
little Lord Elster: words of distress, nay, of despair, breaking from
her. It seemed, the little boy, who was rather self-willed and rebellious
on occasion, had escaped from the nursery, and stolen to his mother's
room. The dowager halted at the door, and looked out from her astonished
eyes.

"Oh, Edward, if we were but dead! Oh, my darling, if it would only please
Heaven to take us both! I couldn't send for you, child; I couldn't see
you; the sight of you kills me. You don't know; my babies, you don't
know!"

"What on earth does all this mean?" interrupted the dowager, stepping
forward. And Lady Hartledon dropped the boy, and fell back on the bed,
exhausted.

"What have you done to your mamma, sir?"

The child, conscious that he had not done anything, but frightened on the
whole, repented of his disobedience, and escaped from the chamber more
quickly than he had entered it. The dowager hated to be puzzled, and went
wrathfully up to her daughter.

"Perhaps you'll tell me what's the matter, Maude."

Lady Hartledon grew calm. The countess-dowager pressed the question.

"There's nothing the matter," came the tardy and rather sullen reply.

"Why do you wish yourself dead, then?"

"Because I do."

"How dare you answer me so?"

"It's the truth. I should be spared suffering."

The countess-dowager paused. "Spared suffering!" she mentally repeated;
and being a woman given to arriving at rapid conclusions without rhyme or
reason, she bethought herself that Maude must have become acquainted with
the suspicion regarding her heart.

"Who told you that?" shrieked the dowager. "It was that fool Hartledon."

"He has told me nothing," said Ma