e is an angel. In our miserable hour of parting, she vowed
not to marry again, should I be taken from her. Marry again! what am I
talking of? Why, if he visits her at all, it will be to let her know I
am alive, and give her my letter. Do you mean to tell me she will listen
to vows of love from him, when her whole heart is in rapture for me?
Such nonsense!"

This burst of his did not affront her, and did not comfort her.

At last the wind abated; and after a wearisome calm, a light breeze
came, and the schooner crept homeward.

Phoebe restrained herself for several days; but at last she came back to
the subject; this time it was in an apologetic tone at starting. "I know
you think me a foolish woman," she said; "but my poor Reginald could
never resist a pretty face; and she is so lovely; and you should have
seen how he turned when she came in to my place. Oh, sir, there has been
more between them than you know of; and when I think that he will
have been in England so many months before we get there, oh, doctor,
sometimes I feel as I should go mad; my head it is like a furnace, and
see, my brow is all wrinkled again."

Then Staines tried to comfort her; assured her she was tormenting
herself idly; her husband would perhaps have spent some of the diamond
money on his amusement; but what if he had? he should deduct it out of
the big diamond, which was also their joint property, and the loss would
hardly be felt. "As to my wife, madam, I have but one anxiety; lest
he should go blurting it out that I am alive, and almost kill her with
joy."

"He will not do that, sir. He is no fool."

"I am glad of it; for there is nothing else to fear."

"Man, I tell you there is everything to fear. You don't know him as I
do; nor his power over women."

"Mrs. Falcon, are you bent on affronting me?"

"No, sir; Heaven forbid!"

"Then please to close this subject forever. In three weeks we shall be
in England."

"Ay; but he has been there six months."

He bowed stiffly to her, went to his cabin, and avoided the poor foolish
woman as much as he could without seeming too unkind.

CHAPTER XXVI.

Mrs. Staines made one or two movements--to stop Lord Tadcaster--with
her hand, that expressive feature with which, at such times, a sensitive
woman can do all but speak.

When at last he paused for her reply, she said, "Me marry again! Oh! for
shame!"

"Mrs. Staines--Rosa--you will marry again, some day."

"Never. Me take an