might, He increaseth strength,'" quoted Christian
softly. "Then--is not this your child?"

"Yes--now."

"But not--?"

"By gift, not by birth. And it is the Holy One who has given him. Now,
good friends, let me not keep you from sleeping. Perhaps I shall sleep
myself. We will talk more in the morning."

It was evident when the morning arrived, that the saved child had
suffered less than she who had saved him. Both needed care,
nourishment, and rest; but Countess wanted it far more than Rudolph. A
few days sufficed to restore him to his usual lively good health; but it
was weeks ere she recovered the physical strain and mental suffering of
that terrible night. But Countess was one of those people who never
either "give in" or "give up." Before any one but herself thought her
half fit for it, she went out, not mentioning her destination, on an
expedition which occupied the greater part of a day, and returned at
night with a satisfied expression on her face.

"I have settled every thing," she said. "And now I will tell you
something. Perhaps you were puzzled to know why I sought shelter with
you, instead of going to some of my wealthy acquaintances in the town?"

"I was, very much," answered Christian hesitatingly.

"I supposed you had some reason for it," said David.

"Right. I had a reason--a strong one. That I shall not tell you at
present. But I will tell you what perhaps you have already guessed--
that I have been divorced from Leo."

"Well, I fancied you must have had a quarrel with him, or something of
that kind," replied Christian.

"Oh, we are on excellent terms," said Countess in a rather sarcastic
tone. "So excellent, that he even proposed himself to lend me an escort
of armed retainers to convey me to London."

"To London!" exclaimed Christian, in some surprise. "I thought you
would be going back to your father's house at Oxford."

"Oh, no!--that would not do at all. I did think of it for a moment; not
now. London will be much better."

"May I take the liberty to ask how you mean to live?" said David. "Of
course it is no business of mine, but--"

"Go on," said Countess, when he hesitated.

"Well, I don't quite see what you can do, without either husband or
father. Perhaps your brother Rubi is coming with you? You can't live
alone, surely."

"I could, and get along very well, too; but I suppose one must not defy
the world, foolish thing as it is. No, my brother Rubi is n