e for you or for
me either--he only wants Margaret; but you must love your mother,
baby, and grow up and comfort her, for she has no one but you to love
her in the whole wide world."

Lady Redmond had a serious relapse after this, and it was two or three
weeks before she was carried to the couch again.

* * * * *

Hugh had not learned his lesson yet. Neither his wife's illness nor
his own had taught him wisdom; he was as restless and unreasonable as
ever.

He grew very impatient over Fay's prolonged weakness, which he
insisted was due in a great measure to her own fault. If she had not
excited herself so much on the night of his return, she would never
have had that relapse. It was a very tiresome affair altogether; for
his own health was not thoroughly re-established, and a London
physician had recommended him a few months' travel; it was just what
he wanted, and now his trip to Cairo and the Pyramids must be
indefinitely postponed.

He rather obstinately chose to believe that there was a want of will
in the matter, and that Fay could throw off her weakness if she liked.
Still he was very kind to her in his uncertain way--perhaps because
the doctors said he must humor her, or she would fade away from them
yet. So he told her that she would never get strong while she lay
moping herself to death in that little painted bird-cage, as he called
the blue room; And when she answered listlessly that she could not
walk--which he was at first slow to believe--he used to carry her down
to one of the sunniest rooms in the old Hall--into either the
morning-room or library--and place her comfortably on her couch with
her work and book before he started out for his ride.

It was a new thing to have those strong arms performing gentle offices
for her. Fay used to thank him gratefully with one of her meek,
beautiful looks, but she seldom said anything--his kindness had come
too late to the poor child, who felt that her heart was slowly
breaking with its hopeless love. For who would be content with the
mirage when they are thirsting for the pure water? Or who would be
satisfied with the meted grain and the measured ounce when they have
given their all in all?

Those looks used to haunt Hugh as he rode through the Singleton lanes;
he used to puzzle over them in an odd ruminative fashion.

He remembered once that he had been in at the death of a doe--where,
or in what country he could not remember