rouble: for vain is the help of man."

The door opened, and the Dean straightened himself impetuously, every
nerve tightening to its work.

* * * * *

"How do you do, my dear Dean?" said Ashe, enclosing the frail, ascetic
hand in both his own. "I trust I have not kept you waiting. My mother
was with me. Sit there, please; you will have the light behind you."

"Thank you. I prefer standing a little, if you don't mind--and I like
the fire."

Ashe threw himself into a chair and shaded his eyes with his hand. The
Dean noticed the strains of gray in his curly hair, and that aspect, as
of something withered and wayworn, which had invaded the man's whole
personality, balanced, indeed, by an intellectual dignity and
distinction which had never been so commanding. It was as though the
stern and constant wrestle of the mind had burned away all lesser
things--the old, easy grace, the old, careless pleasure in life.

"I think you know," began the Dean, clearing his throat, "why I asked
you to see me?"

"You wished, I think, to speak to me--about my wife," said Ashe, with
difficulty.

Under his sheltering hand, his eyes looked straight before him into the
fire.

The Dean fidgeted a moment, lifted a small Greek vase on the
mantel-piece, and set it down--then turned round.

"I heard from her ten days ago--the most piteous letter. As you know, I
had always a great regard for her. The news of last year was a sharp
sorrow to me--as though she had been a daughter. I felt I must see her.
So I put myself into the train and went to Venice."

Ashe started a little, but said nothing.

"Or, rather, to Treviso, for, as I think you know, she is there with
Lady Alice."

"Yes, that I had heard."

The Dean paused again, then moved a little nearer to Ashe, looking down
upon him.

"May I ask--stop me if I seem impertinent--how much you know of the
history of the winter?"

"Very little!" said Ashe, in a low voice. "My mother got some
information from the English consul at Trieste, who is a friend of
hers--to whom, it seems, Lady Kitty applied; but it did not amount to
much."

The Dean drew a small note-book from a breast-pocket and looked at some
entries in it.

"They seem to have reached Marinitza in November If I understood aright,
Lady Kitty had no maid with her?"

"No. The maid Blanche was sent home from Verona."

"How Lady Kitty ever got through the journey!--or the winter!" said the
Dean