ou demean yourself, praying her," said Dick. "It's a public
conveyance: you have no need to ask HER leave."

"That is true: I can't hinder folk from going to Cape Town the same
day," said Phoebe sullenly.

"If I might presume to advise, I would take little Tommy."

"What! all that road? Do you want me to lose my child, as well as my
man?"

"O Mrs. Falcon!"

"Don't speak to her, doctor, to get your nose snapped off. Give her
time. She'll come to her senses before she dies."

Next day Mrs. Falcon and Staines started for Cape Town. Staines paid
her every attention, when opportunity offered. But she was sullen and
gloomy, and held no converse with him.

He landed her at an inn, and then told her he would go at once to the
jeweller's. He asked her piteously would she lend him a pound or two to
prosecute his researches. She took out her purse, without a word, and
lent him two pounds.

He began to scour the town: the jewellers he visited could tell him
nothing. At last he came to a shop, and there he found Mrs. Falcon
making her inquiries independently. She said coldly, "You had better
come with me, and get your money and things."

She took him to the bank--it happened to be the one she did business
with--and said, "This is Dr. Christie, come for his money and jewels."

There was some demur at this; but the cashier recognized him, and Phoebe
making herself responsible, the money and jewels were handed over.

Staines whispered Phoebe, "Are you sure the jewels are mine?"

"They were found on you, sir."

Staines took them, looking confused. He did not know what to think. When
they got into the street again, he told her it was very kind of her to
think of his interest at all.

No answer: she was not going to make friends with him over such a trifle
as that.

By degrees, however, Christopher's zeal on her behalf broke the ice; and
besides, as the search proved unavailing, she needed sympathy; and he
gave it her, and did not abuse her husband as Dick Dale did.

One day, in the street, after a long thought, she said to him, "Didn't
you say, sir, you gave him a letter for me?"

"I gave him two letters; one of them was to you."

"Could you remember what you said in it?"

"Perfectly. I begged you, if you should go to England, to break the
truth to my wife. She is very excitable; and sudden joy has killed ere
now. I gave you particular instructions."

"And you were very wise. But whatever could make you think I w