P.M.," and filled
them up with the date of the next day, "December 10th." When a dozen
of the cards had been wrapped up in a dozen lithographed letters of
invitation, and inclosed in a dozen envelopes, he next consulted a list
of the families resident in the neighborhood, and directed the envelopes
from the list. Ringing a bell this time, instead of speaking through
a tube, he summoned the man-servant, and gave him the letters, to be
delivered by hand the first thing the next morning. "I think it will
do," said the doctor, taking a turn in the Dispensary when the servant
had gone out--"I think it will do." While he was still absorbed in his
own reflections, the nurse re-appeared to announce that the lady's room
was ready; and the doctor thereupon formally returned to the study to
communicate the information to Miss Gwilt.

She had not moved since he left her. She rose from her dark corner when
he made his announcement, and, without speaking or raising her veil,
glided out of the room like a ghost.

After a brief interval, the nurse came downstairs again, with a word for
her master's private ear.

"The lady has ordered me to call her to-morrow at seven o'clock, sir,"
she said. "She means to fetch her luggage herself, and she wants to have
a cab at the door as soon as she is dressed. What am I to do?"

"Do what the lady tells you," said the doctor. "She may be safely
trusted to return to the Sanitarium."

The breakfast hour at the Sanitarium was half-past eight o'clock. By
that time Miss Gwilt had settled everything at her lodgings, and had
returned with her luggage in her own possession. The doctor was quite
amazed at the promptitude of his patient.

"Why waste so much energy?" he asked, when they met at the
breakfast-table. "Why be in such a hurry, my dear lady, when you had all
the morning before you?"

"Mere restlessness!" she said, briefly. "The longer I live, the more
impatient I get."

The doctor, who had noticed before she spoke that her face looked
strangely pale and old that morning, observed, when she answered him,
that her expression--naturally mobile in no ordinary degree--remained
quite unaltered by the effort of speaking. There was none of the usual
animation on her lips, none of the usual temper in her eyes. He had
never seen her so impenetrably and coldly composed as he saw her now.
"She has made up her mind at last," he thought. "I may say to her this
morning what I couldn't say to her last ni