from Mercer, I think; I don't quite remember. Please
do not call any one, uncle."

In spite of the wildness of her words, it was not a delirious woman who
was speaking to him, as he had thought. "Try and tell me, then, what it
all means," he said; "or stay,--first let me get you a glass of wine."

He went shuffling along in his slippers to the dining-room, and came back
with a wineglass and the little fat decanter, with the silver collar
clinking about its neck. He filled the glass, and held it to her lips,
and then stood and looked at her as she drank, his lower lip thrust out,
and perplexity and anxiety written on every feature.

Helen handed the glass back to him, and rose. "Thank you, uncle Archie,"
she said. "I--I must go up-stairs now. I am tired."

"But, my dear child," he remonstrated, "my dear Helen, you must tell me
what all this means, first."

She looked at him entreatingly. "Not now,--oh, not to-night."

"But, Helen," he said, "I can't be kept in suspense, you know."

He tried to put his arm about her, but she pushed it a little aside and
shook her head. "I will tell you," she said, while Dr. Howe, not
understanding his repulse, stood with parted lips and frowning eyebrows,
polishing his glasses on the skirt of his dressing-gown. Helen rubbed her
hand across her forehead.

"I am a little confused," she began, "but--there is not much to say. John
has written that I must not come back to Lockhaven. I shall never see my
husband again, uncle Archie," she added piteously.

"Why--why--why!" cried Dr. Howe. "Bless my soul, what's all this? Mr.
Ward says my niece is not to return to her husband! Oh, come, now, come!"

"Need we say anything more to-night?" Helen said. "I--I cannot talk."

Nothing could have shown Dr. Howe's affection for his niece more than the
way in which he said, looking at her in silence for a moment, "My child,
you shall do just what you please. Come up-stairs now, and get to bed. It
will be a mercy if you're not laid up with a cold to-morrow. Would you
rather not see Lois? Well, then, Jean shall come and make you
comfortable."

But Dr. Howe, shuffling over the bare stairs, and fuming to himself,
"What's all this! Nonsense, I say, perfect nonsense!" could not fail to
arouse Lois, and she called out drowsily, "Good-night, father, dear. Is
anything the matter?"

"Nothing,--nothing!" cried the rector testily. "Go to sleep. Come, Helen,
take my arm, and let me help you."

"Helen!" L