was upon the door until it opened, leaped to his
face, to his eyes, the instant he appeared. He was
smiling--hopefully, but not gayly.

"Garvey says"--and he read from a slip of paper in his hand--"
'None of the wounds necessarily mortal. Doctors refuse to
commit themselves, but I believe he has a good chance.'"

He extended the cablegram that she might read for herself, and
said, "He'll win, my dear. He has luck, and lucky people
always win in big things."

Her gaze did not leave his face. One would have said that she
had not heard, that she was still seeking what she had admitted
him to learn. He sat down where Clelie had been, and said:

"There's only one thing for us to do, and that is to go over
at once."

She closed her eyes. A baffled, puzzled expression was upon
her deathly pale face.

"We can sail on the _Mauretania_ Saturday," continued he.
"I've telephoned and there are good rooms."

She turned her face away.

"Don't you feel equal to going?"

"As you say, we must."

"The trip can't do you any harm." His forced composure
abruptly vanished and he cried out hysterically: "Good God!
It's incredible." Then he got himself in hand again, and went
on: "No wonder it bowled you out. I had my anxiety about you
to break the shock. But you---- How do you feel now?"

"I'm going to dress."

"I'll send you in some brandy." He bent and kissed her. A
shudder convulsed her--a shudder visible even through the
covers. But he seemed not to note it, and went on: "I didn't
realize how fond I was of Brent until I saw that thing in the
paper. I almost fainted, myself. I gave Clelie a horrible scare."

"I thought you were having an attack," said Clelie. "My
husband looked exactly as you did when he died that way."

Susan's strange eyes were gazing intently at him--the
searching, baffled, persistently seeking look. She closed
them as he turned from the bed. When she and Clelie were
alone and she was dressing, she said:

"Freddie gave you a scare?"

"I was at breakfast," replied Clelie, "was pouring my coffee.
He came into the room in his bathrobe--took up the papers from
the table opened to the foreign news as he always does. I
happened to be looking at him"--Clelie flushed--"he is very
handsome in that robe--and all at once he dropped the
paper--grew white--staggered and fell into a chair. Exactly
like my husband."

Susan, seated at her dressing-table, was staring absently out
of the