"He did; and he'll be back the minute he's through with his work. He
is an incomparable nurse; and with him at hand, I shall not need
to--trespass on so much of your time, after all."

Honor bit her lip and tingled in every nerve, less at the actual words
than at the manner of their utterance--a mingling of embarrassment and
schooled politeness, which set her at arm's length, checked
spontaneity, and brought her down from the heights with the speed of a
dropped stone.

"It is not a question of trespassing on my time," she said, and in
spite of herself a hint of constraint invaded her voice. "But I have
no wish to deprive Paul of his privilege and right. You can settle it
with Dr Mackay between you. Now, it's time you ate your breakfast. Can
you manage by yourself? Shall I send Evelyn to help you?"

"No, thanks; I can manage all right."

He knew quite well he could do nothing of the sort; but his one need
was to be alone.

"Very well. I shall be busy this morning with mail letters. Evelyn
will sit with you till Paul comes; and Frank is sure to be round
during the day. I pointed out to you yesterday that there were plenty
of--others able and willing to see after you."

Before he could remonstrate she was gone. He drew in his breath
sharply, between set teeth, and struck the arm of his chair with
jarring force.

"I have hurt her--clumsy brute that I am. And I must do worse before
the day's out. But the sooner it's over the better."

It was his invariable attitude towards a distasteful duty; and he
decided not to let slip a second opportunity. Weak and unaided, he
made what shift he could to deal with the intricacies of breakfast,
choking back his irritability when he found himself grasping empty air
in place of the teapot handle, sending the sugar-tongs clattering to
the floor, and deluging his saucer by pouring the milk outside the
cup. For the moment, to this man of independent spirit, these trivial
indignities seemed more unendurable than the loss of his subaltern,
the intrusive shadow threatening his self-respect, or the fear of
blindness, that lay upon his heart cold and heavy as a corpse.

And on the other side of the door, Honor stood alone in the
drawing-room, trying to regain some measure of calmness before
returning to the breakfast-table.

Red-hot resentment fired her from head to foot. Resentment against
what, against whom? she asked herself blankly, and in the same breath
turned her back upon t