should you relinquish
society, or leave off dressing stylishly? You are in the prime of life."

"No, Violet, I am a poor faded creature," whimpered Mrs. Winstanley,
"stout women are handsome at forty, or even"--with a
shudder--"five-and-forty. The age suits their style. But I was always
slim and fragile, and of late I have grown painfully thin. No one but a
Parisian dressmaker could make me presentable; and I have done with
Paris dresses. The utmost I can hope for is to sit alone by the
fireside, and work antimacassars in crewels."

"But, dear mother, you did not marry Captain Winstanley in order to
lead such a life as that? You might as well be in a _beguinage_."

Vain were Vixen's efforts to console and cheer. A blight had fallen
upon her mother's mind and spirits--a blight that had crept slowly on,
unheeded by the husband, till one morning the local practitioner--a
gentleman who had lived all his life among his patients, and knew them
so well externally that he might fairly be supposed to have a minute
acquaintance with their internal organism--informed Captain Winstanley
that he feared there was something wrong with his wife's heart, and
that he thought that it would be well to get the highest opinion.

The Captain, startled out of his habitual self-command, looked up from
his desk with an ashy countenance.

"Do you mean that Mrs. Winstanley has heart disease--something
organically wrong?"

"Unhappily I fear it is so. I have been for some time aware that she
had a weak heart. Her complexion, her feeble circulation, several
indications have pointed to that conclusion. This morning I have made a
thorough examination, and I find mischief, decided mischief."

"That means she may die at any moment, suddenly, without an instant's
warning."

"There would always be that fear. Or she might sink gradually from want
of vital power. There is a sad deficiency of power. I hardly ever knew
anyone remain so long in so low a state."

"You have been attending her, off and on, ever since our marriage. You
must have seen her sinking. Why have you not warned me before?"

"It seemed hardly necessary. You must have perceived the change
yourself. You must have noticed her want of appetite, her distaste for
exertion of any kind, her increasing feebleness."

"I am not a doctor."

"No; but these are things that speak plainly to every eye--to the eye
of affection most of all."

"We are slow to perceive the alteration in anyone