f Boyce? I had to turn the
question playfully. I said, "What should I do without my Betty?"

"Do you really care about me so much?"

I laughed. There are times when one has to laugh--or overwhelm oneself
in dishonour.

"Now you see my nature in all its vile egotism," said I, and the
statement led to a pretty quarrel.

But after it was over to our joint satisfaction, she had to return to
the distressful main theme of our talk. She harked back to Sir Anthony,
touched on his splendid behaviour, recalled, with a little dismay, the
hitherto unnoted fact that, after the ceremony he had held himself
aloof from those that thronged round Boyce. Then, without hint from me,
she perceived the significance of the Fenimores' retirement from
Wellingsford.

"Leonard's ignorance," she said, "leaves him in a frightful position.
More than ever he ought to know."

"He ought, indeed, my dear," said I. "And I will tell him. I ought to
have done so before."

I gave my undertaking. I went to bed upbraiding myself for cowardice
and resolved to go to Boyce the next day. Not only Fate, but honour and
decency forced me to the detested task.

Alas! Next morning I was nailed to my bed by my abominable malady. The
attacks had become more frequent of late. Cliffe administered
restoratives and for the first time he lost his smile and looked
worried. You see until quite lately I had had a very tranquil life,
deeply interested in other folks' joys and sorrows, but moved by very
few of my own. And now there had swooped down on me this ravening pack
of emotions which were tearing me to pieces. I lay for a couple of days
tortured by physical pain, humiliation and mental anguish.

On the evening of the second day, Marigold came into the bedroom with a
puzzled look on his face.

"Colonel Boyce is here, sir. I told him you were in bed and seeing
nobody, but he says he wants to see you on something important. I asked
him whether it couldn't wait till to-morrow, and he said that if I
would give you a password, Vilboek's Farm, you'd be sure to see him."

"Quite right, Marigold," said I. "Show him in."

Vilboek's Farm! Fate had driven him to me, instead of me to him. I
would see him though it killed me, and get the horrible business over
for ever.

Marigold led him in and drew up a chair for him by the bedside. After
pulling on the lights and drawing the curtains, for the warm May
evening was drawing to a close.

"Anything more, sir, for the pre