this evening. But poor Tom is killed--not a
doubt about it--Milne too. And, now, will you break it to Mrs
Carhayes? It must be done, you know. She may hear it by accident any
moment; the whole place is talking about it, and just think what a shock
that will be."

"Oh, I can't. Don't ask me. It will kill her."

"But, my dear lady, it _must_ be done," urged Shelton. "It is a most
painful and heart-breaking necessity--but it is a necessity."

"Come and help me through with it, Mr Shelton," pleaded Mrs Hoste
piteously. "I shall never manage it alone."

Shelton was in a quandary. He knew Eanswyth fairly well, but he was by
nature a retiring man, a trifle shy even, and to find himself saddled
with so delicate and painful a task as the breaking of this news to her,
was simply appalling. He was a well-to-do man, with a wife and family
of his own, yet it is to be feared that during the three dozen paces
which it took them to reach the front door, he almost wished he could
change places with poor Tom Carhayes.

He wished so altogether as they gained the _stoep_. For in the doorway
stood a tall figure--erect, rigid as a post--with face of a ghastly
white, lips livid and trembling.

"What does this mean?" gasped Eanswyth. "What `bad news' is it? Please
tell me. I can bear it."

She was holding out a scrap of pencilled paper, Shelton's open note,
which Mrs Hoste, in her flurry and horror, had dropped as she went out.
It only contained a couple of lines:

Dear Mrs Hoste:

There is very bad news to tell, which regards Mrs Carhayes. Please
follow the bearer at once.

Yours truly, Henry Shelton.

"Quick--what is it--the `bad news'? I can bear it--Quick--you are
killing me," gasped Eanswyth, speaking now in a dry whisper.

One look at his accomplice convinced Shelton that he would have to take
the whole matter into his own hands.

"Try and be brave, Mrs Carhayes," he said gravely. "It concerns your
husband."

"Is he--is he--is it the worst!" she managed to get out.

"It is the worst," he answered simply, deeming it best to get it over as
soon as possible.

For a minute he seemed to have reason to congratulate himself on this
idea. The rigid stony horror depicted on her features relaxed, giving
way to a dazed, bewildered expression, as though she had borne the first
brunt of the shock, and was calming down.

"Tell me!" she gasped at length. "How was it? When? Where?"

"It was across th