voice sank on the
last word.

For an instant Anstice kept silence, uncertain how to answer her. Then,
seeing she was waiting for his reply, he made an effort and spoke.

"Mrs. Cheniston, to be honest, I don't know why I did not tell you.
But"--he seized the opportunity for a question on his own account--"will
you tell me how you know, now? Did--did your husband tell you?"

"No." Her eyes met his frankly and he knew she was speaking the truth.
"I learned the fact for certain by accident three days ago, when Bruce
was delirious. Of course I had wondered--sometimes"--said Iris
honestly--"but I never liked to ask. And after all it made no
difference."

"No." He sighed. "It made no difference. But I am glad you know--now."

Again a silence fell between them; and then a sudden impulse drove
Anstice into speech.

"Mrs. Cheniston," he said, very quietly, "may I tell you something
else--something I have long wanted you to know?"

Startled, she assented; and he continued slowly.

"You remember that night--the night before your wedding day"--he saw her
wince, and went on more quickly--"the night, I mean, when Cherry
Carstairs set herself on fire and you came for me to my house----"

"Yes." Her eyes were sad. "I remember. I don't think I shall ever be
able to forget that night."

"Ah, don't say that!" His voice was eager. "Mrs. Cheniston, don't,
please, believe I gave in without a struggle. I didn't. God knows I
fought the horrible thing--for your sake, because you had been good
enough, kind enough--to ask me to give up trying that way out. I did
try. Oh, I know you can hardly believe me--you who saw me in the very
hour of my failure--but it's true. Although I gave in at the last,
beaten by the twin enemies of bodily pain and mental suffering----"

"You were--in pain--that day?"

"Yes. I had endured torture--oh, I don't want to excuse myself, but
please understand I was really ill, really suffering, and morphia, as
you know, does bring a blessed relief. And I was wretched, too--it
seemed to me that life was over for me that day----"

He stopped short, biting his lips at his self-betrayal; but Iris' grey
eyes did not turn away from his face.

"And so, thinking I could endure no more agony of body and mind, I had
recourse to the one relief I knew; but before God, if I had known that
you would be a witness to my failure----"

"Dr. Anstice"--the gentleness in her voice fell like balm upon his sore
spirit--"please don