as before it by the intricacies of some new knitting.

Things of course might have been different if Mrs. Thornburgh had
interfered again; but, as we know, poor Catherine's sorrows had raised a
whole odd host of misgivings in the mind of the vicar's wife. She
prowled nervously round Mrs. Leyburn, filled with contempt for her
placidity; but she did not attack her. She spent herself, indeed, on
Rose and Agnes, but long practice had made them adepts in the art of
baffling her; and when Mr. Flaxman went to tea at the vicarage in their
company, in spite of an absorbing desire to get at the truth, which
caused her to forget a new cap, and let fall a plate of tea-cakes, she
was obliged to confess crossly to the vicar afterwards that 'no one
could tell what a man like that was after. She supposed his manners were
very aristocratic, but for her part she liked plain people.'

On the last morning of Mr. Flaxman's stay in the valley he entered the
Burwood drive about eleven o'clock, and Rose came down the steps to meet
him. For a moment he flattered himself that her disturbed looks were due
to the nearness of their farewells.

'There is something wrong,' he said, softly detaining her hand a
moment--so much, at least, was in his right.

'Robert is ill. There has been an accident at Petites Dalles. He has
been in bed for a week. They hope to get home in a few days. Catherine
writes bravely, but she is evidently very low.'

Hugh Flaxman's face fell. Certain letters he had received from Elsmere
in July had lain heavy on his mind ever since, so pitiful was the
half-conscious revelation in them of an incessant physical struggle. An
accident! Elsmere was in no state for accidents. What miserable
ill-luck!

Rose read him Catherine's account. It appeared that on a certain stormy
day a swimmer had been observed in difficulties among the rocks skirting
the northern side of the Petites Dalles bay. The old _baigneur_ of the
place, owner of the still primitive _etablissement des bains_, without
stopping to strip, or even to take off his heavy boots, went out to the
man in danger with a plank. The man took the plank and was safe. Then to
the people watching, it became evident that the _baigneur_ himself was
in peril. He became unaccountably feeble in the water, and the cry rose
that he was sinking. Robert, who happened to be bathing near, ran off to
the spot, jumped in, and swam out. By this time the old man had drifted
some way. Robert suc