, sprang towards her, sending Saton
reeling against the table. He fell on his knees by her side.

"Bring water, some of you idiots!" he cried out. "Ring the bell! And
don't let that cursed charlatan escape!"

CHAPTER XXVIII

SPOKEN FROM THE HEART

Pauline took the card from the hand of her servant, and glanced at it
at first with the idlest of curiosity--afterwards with a fixed and
steadfast attention, as though she saw in those copperplate letters,
elegantly traced upon a card of superfine quality, something
symbolical, something of far greater significance than the unexpected
name which confronted her.

"I told you, Martin," she said, "that I was at home to nobody except
those upon the special list."

"I know it, your ladyship," the man answered, "but this gentleman has
called every day for a week, and I have refused even to bring his name
in. To-day he was so very persistent that I thought perhaps it would
be better to bring his card."

Pauline was lying upon a couch. She had been unwell for the last two
or three weeks. Nothing serious--nerves, she called it. A doctor would
probably have prescribed for her with a smile. Pauline knew better
than to send for one. She knew very well what was the matter. She was
afraid! Fear had come upon her like a disease. The memory of that one
night racked her still--the memory of that, and other things.

Meanwhile, the servant stood before her in an attitude of respectful
attention.

"I will see Mr. Saton," she decided at last. "You can show him in
here, and remember that until he has gone, no one else is to be
allowed to enter. Come yourself only if I ring the bell, or when you
serve tea."

The man bowed, and went back to where Saton was waiting in the hall.

"Her ladyship is at home, sir," he announced. "Will you come this
way?"

A certain drawn expression seemed suddenly to vanish from the young
man's face. He followed the servant almost blithely. In a few seconds
he was alone with her in the firelit drawing-room. The door was closed
behind him.

Pauline was sitting up on the couch. For a moment they neither of them
spoke. She, too, had been suffering, then, he thought, recognising the
signs of ill-health in her colorless cheeks and languid pose.

He came slowly across the room and held out his hand. She hesitated,
and shook her head.

"No!" she said. "I do not think that I wish to shake hands with you,
Mr. Saton. I do not understand why you have come