ve just kept the
cottages and your studio tidy. I have spent a good deal of time at
Reuben's, where they have been very kind to me; but I have missed you
very much, love."

"Well, I am back now, and not likely to leave you again for a long
time. We must have another full day's jaunt on the moors and see the
heather in all its royal magnificence."

Her eyes brightened, but I noticed they fell again, and there was doubt
in her voice as she replied:

"Yes, love. That will be nice. I think the heat has been very trying,
and you may find it so, too. You must take care not to overtire
yourself."

Then I knew that there was something wrong, and was glad that I had not
consented to live at the Hall. It had been a disappointment to the
squire, but he had not pressed the point when he saw that I was
unwilling, and I had, of course, readily agreed to spend a good deal of
time with him. I know he would have welcomed my old lady as a
permanent guest for my sake, but she would never have consented to
abandon her own little Hall of Memories, though she would have sought
by every cunning artifice which love could devise to induce me to leave
her, and would have suffered smilingly. I registered a mental vow that
she should never know, if I could keep the secret from her, and that I
would do all in my power to make her declining days happy.

"Why are you so weary, dear?" I asked.

"Oh, it is nothing, love," she replied. "It is just the heat. I shall
be better when the days are cooler. Indeed, love, I am feeling better
already."

I slept soundly enough, in spite of my new anxiety, but the morrow
brought me no alleviation. The old lady's vigour was gone, and she
moved about the house without energy. But her cheerfulness never
failed her, and her patience was something to marvel at.

Dr. Trempest pulled up his horse at the gate and stopped to have a chat
one day, and I took the opportunity of mentioning my uneasiness.

"I'll pop in and look at her," he said. "Why don't you give her the
same magic physic you've poured down the throat of my old friend Evans?
He's taken on a new lease of life. I tell you it's a miracle, and he
says you did it, but he won't divulge the secret. Dear! dear! we old
fogeys are no use at all in competition with the women! But come,
let's have a look at the old girl."

He walked brusquely in and sat astride a chair, leaning his chin on the
high back, and talked with her for ten minutes.