gain,
as she spoke.

The doctor came behind her, and put his hand on the back of her chair.

"I have a question to ask, in the first place," he said; "and a measure
of necessary precaution to suggest, in the second. If you will honor me
with your attention, I will put the question first."

"I am listening."

"You know that Mr. Armadale is alive," pursued the doctor, "and you
know that he is coming back to England. Why do you continue to wear your
widow's dress?"

She answered him without an instant's hesitation, steadily going on with
her work.

"Because I am of a sanguine disposition, like you. I mean to trust to
the chapter of accidents to the very last. Mr. Armadale may die yet, on
his way home."

"And suppose he gets home alive--what then?"

"Then there is another chance still left."

"What is it, pray?"

"He may die in your Sanitarium."

"Madam!" remonstrated the doctor, in the deep bass which he reserved for
his outbursts of virtuous indignation. "Wait! you spoke of the chapter
of accidents," he resumed, gliding back into his softer conversational
tones. "Yes! yes! of course. I understand you this time. Even the
healing art is at the mercy of accidents; even such a Sanitarium as mine
is liable to be surprised by Death. Just so! just so!" said the doctor,
conceding the question with the utmost impartiality. "There _is_ the
chapter of accidents, I admit--if you choose to trust to it.
Mind! I say emphatically, _if_ you choose to trust to it."

There was another moment of silence--silence so profound that nothing
was audible in the room but the rapid _click_ of Miss Gwilt's needle
through her work.

"Go on," she said; "you haven't done yet."

"True!" said the doctor. "Having put my question, I have my measure of
precaution to impress on you next. You will see, my dear madam, that
I am not disposed to trust to the chapter of accidents on my side.
Reflection has convinced me that you and I are not (logically speaking)
so conveniently situated as we might be in case of emergency. Cabs
are, as yet, rare in this rapidly improving neighborhood. I am twenty
minutes' walk from you; you are twenty minutes' walk from me. I know
nothing of Mr. Armadale's character; you know it well. It might be
necessary--vitally necessary--to appeal to your superior knowledge of
him at a moment's notice. And how am I to do that unless we are within
easy reach of each other, under the same roof? In both our interests,
I beg t