unlovely street," and which just now was the only place in the world
where he desired to stay. Coxeter, always so sure of himself, and of
what was the best and wisest thing to do in every circumstance of life,
felt for the first time unable to cope with a situation presented to his
notice.

As he was hesitating, a carriage drove up, and a footman came forward
with a card, while the occupant of the carriage called out, making
anxious inquiries as to Mrs. Archdale's condition, and promising to call
again the same afternoon.

Coxeter suddenly told himself that it behoved him to see the doctor, and
ascertain from him whether Mrs. Archdale was really ill.

He crossed the street, and began pacing up and down, and unconsciously
he quickened his steps as he went over every moment of his brief
interview with Nan. All that was himself--and there was a good deal more
of John Coxeter than even he was at all aware of--had gone out to her in
a rapture of memory and longing, but she, or so it seemed to him, had
purposely made herself remote.

At last, after what seemed a very long time, the doctor came out of Mrs.
Archdale's house and began walking quickly down the street.

Coxeter crossed over and touched him on the arm. "If I may," he said, "I
should like a word with you. I want to ask you--I mean I trust that Mrs.
Archdale is recovering from the effect of the terrible experience she
went through the other night." He spoke awkwardly, stiffly. "I saw her
for a few minutes just before you came, and I was sorry to find her very
unlike herself."

The doctor went on walking; he looked coldly at Coxeter.

"It's a great pity that Mrs. Archdale's friends can't leave her alone!
As to being unlike herself, you and I would probably be very unlike
ourselves if we had gone through what this poor lady had just gone
through!"

"You see, I was with her on the boat. We were not travelling together,"
Coxeter corrected himself hastily, "I happened to meet her merely on the
journey. My name is Coxeter."

The other man's manner entirely altered. He slackened in his quick walk.
"I beg your pardon," he said; "of course I had no notion who you were.
She says you saved her life! That but for you she would have been in
that boat--the boat that was lost."

Coxeter tried to say something in denial of this surprising statement,
but the doctor hurried on, "I may tell you that I'm very worried about
Mrs. Archdale--in fact seriously concerned at her c