ircumspection. He saw that
Hugh had been quite right in assuring him (at Sibyl's instance) that
there was no need whatever for him to neglect his military duties and
come home at an inconvenient time. Hugh's affairs were in perfect
order; all he would have to think about was the recovery of health and
mental tranquillity.

To this end, they must decide upon some retreat in which he might pass
a quiet month or two. That dear and invaluable friend, to whom Sibyl
owed 'more than she could tell' (much more than she could tell to Major
Carnaby), was ready with a delightful suggestion. Lady Isobel (that is
to say, her auriferous husband, plain Mr. Barker) had a little house in
the north, cosy amid moor and mountain, and she freely offered it.
There Hugh and his wife might abide in solitude until the sacred
Twelfth, when religious observance would call thither a small company
of select pilgrims. The offer was gratefully accepted. Major Carnaby
saw no reason for hesitating, and agreed with Sibyl that the plan
should be withheld from Hugh until the last moment, as a gratifying
surprise. By some means, however, on the day before Hugh's release,
there appeared in certain newspapers a little paragraph making known to
the public this proof of Lady Isabel's friendship for Sibyl and her
husband.

'It's just as well,' said Mrs. Carnaby, after appearing vexed for a
moment. 'People will be saved the trouble of calling here. But it
really is mysterious how the papers get hold of things.'

She was not quite sure that Hugh would approve her arrangement, and the
event justified this misgiving. Major Carnaby was to bring his brother
to Oxford and Cambridge Mansions, and, if possible, all were to travel
northward that same day. But Hugh, on hearing what was proposed, made
strong objection: he refused to accept the hospitality of people quite
unknown to him; why, with abundant resources of their own, should they
become indebted to strangers? So vehement was his resistance, and so
pitiful the state of body and mind which showed itself in his all but
hysterical excitement, that Sibyl pretended to abandon the scheme.
Today they would remain here, talking quietly; by tomorrow they might
have decided what to do.

At ten o'clock next morning, when Sibyl had been up for an hour, Hugh
still lay asleep. She went softly into the room, lighted by the sun's
yellow glimmer through blind and lace curtains, and stood looking at
him, her husband. To him s