d and walked towards the table to put down the empty
glass.

Lord Bracondale for the first time realised that the nurse by whom
during the past few days he, confirmed bachelor that he was, had become
so strangely attracted, possessed a chapter of her life which she hoped
was closed for ever.

The curious situation attracted him. What, he wondered, could be the
nature of the secret of such a good, pure-minded, honest woman?

His eyes followed her as she moved about the room in silence. He was
wondering.

The autumn days passed slowly. His was a long illness.

Out in the great park the golden leaves, in falling, were swept along
the wide avenue by the strong winds from the sea, and the face of the
country had now become brown and desolate.

Jean, when she took her walk alone each afternoon, when off duty,
wandered over the bare fields or beside the grey, chill sea until, so
dispiriting did she find the scene, that she preferred to spend her
hours of rest in the big, well-warmed house or at the convent itself.

His lordship's recovery was very slow.

Sir Evered Morrison had been down three times from London and seen the
patient, and on the last occasion had been accompanied by another
renowned surgeon.

Though it was kept a profound secret, the truth was that the Earl was
not progressing as well as had been expected. Perhaps the strain of
State affairs was too heavy upon him, for though far from recovered, he
worked several hours with Mr. Charlton, his secretary, who sat at a
table at his bedside, writing despatches as his lordship dictated them.

Thus three months went by. November came and went, and still the Earl
had not left his room, although he was allowed to sit by the fire in his
dressing-gown for two hours each day.

The room had been transformed into a small library, and here his
lordship received callers who came from London upon official business.
Indeed, he on more than one occasion received an ambassador of one of
the Great Powers.

To Jean it was all a very novel and strange experience. At her patient's
bedside she met some of the greatest of the land, men whose names were
as household words. Even a royal prince called one day in his motor-car
and sat beside the fire with the invalid. And if the truth be told,
scarcely a person who visited the Earl did not remark upon his nurse's
grace, sweetness, and good looks.

Inwardly, the Earl of Bracondale was much mystified. Unconsciously,
though occ