her
that she was writing with her blood. She had sent him many letters
without hope of answer, but something told her that she could not appeal
in vain forever, and that he would at last reply to her.

Two days passed, and she spent much of her time with the child. She
felt that in time she might love it, if Griggs were not beside her. Then
he came back, and in the great joy of seeing her again after that first
short separation, the stern voice grew as soft as a woman's, and the
still face was moved. She had looked forward with dread to his return,
and she shivered when he touched her; she would have given all she had
if only he would not kiss her. Then, when she felt that he might have
found her cold to him at the first moment, that he might guess, that he
might find out her secret, she shivered again from head to heel, in fear
of him, and she forced the smile upon her face with all her will.

"I am so glad, that I am almost frightened!" she cried, and lest the
smile should be imperfect, she hid it against his shoulder.

She could have bitten the cloth and the tough arm under it, as she felt
him kiss the back of her neck just at the roots of the hair; as it was,
she grasped his arm convulsively.

"How strong you are!" he laughed, as he felt the pressure of her
fingers.

"Yes," she answered. "It is the mountain air--and you," she added.

And, as ever, it seemed to him true. The days he spent with her were
heavenly to him as they were days of living earthly hell to her. He did
not even leave her alone for an hour or two, as he had done in the
city, for when he was in Rome without her he did double work and
shortened his sleep by half, that he might lengthen the time he was to
have with her. The heat of the capital and the late hours brought out
dark shadows under his eyes, and gave her another excuse for saying that
he was overworking for her sake, and that she was a burden upon him--she
and the child.

On the morning before he next went to Rome, she received a letter from
Reanda. The blood rushed scarlet to her face, but Griggs was busy with
his own letters and did not see it.

She went to the baby's room. The child had been taken out by the nurse,
and she sat down in the nurse's chair by the empty cradle and broke the
seal of the note. There was a big sheet of paper inside, on which were
written these lines in the artist's small, nervous handwriting:--

"I am perfectly well, but I understand your anxiety abo