ntly she would ask him what she should do. He had been asked such
things before by women, but they usually added trying detail accompanied
by sobs, and appealed to his chivalry for impossible aid. Sometimes they
implored him to go to people and use his influence.

Emily answered all his questions with her usual sweet, good sense. She
was not well. Yesterday she had fainted.

"Was there any disturbing reason for the faint?" he inquired.

"It was because I was--very much disappointed," she answered,
hesitating. "I had a letter which--It was not what I expected."

She was thinking desperately. She could understand nothing. It was not
explainable that what she had written did not matter at all, that James
should have made no reply.

"I was awake all night," she added.

"That must not go on," he said.

"I was thinking--and thinking," nervously.

"I can see that," was his answer.

Perhaps she ought to have courage to say nothing. It might be safer. But
it was so lonely not to dare to ask anyone's advice, that she was
getting frightened. India was thousands and thousands of miles away, and
letters took so long to come and go. Anxiety might make her ill before
she could receive a reply to a second letter. And perhaps now in her
terror she had put herself into a ridiculous position. How could she
send for Lady Maria to Mortimer Street and explain to her? She realised
also that her ladyship's sense of humour might not be a thing to confide
in safely.

Warren's strong, amiable personality was good for her. It served to aid
her to normal reasoning. Though she was not aware of the fact, her
fears, her simplicity, and her timorous adoration of her husband had not
allowed her to reason normally in the past. She had been too anxious and
too much afraid.

Her visitor watched her with great interest and no little curiosity. He
himself saw that her mood was not normal. She did not look as poor Mrs.
Jerrold had looked, but she was not in a normal state.

He made his visit a long one purposely. Tea was brought up, and he drank
it with her. He wanted to give her time to make up her mind about him.
When at last he rose to go away, she rose also. She looked nervously
undecided, but let him go towards the door.

Her move forward was curiously sudden.

"No, no," she said. "Please come back. I--oh!--I really think I ought to
tell you."

He turned towards her, wishing that Mary were with him. She stood trying
to smile, and looki