ou think it would be better," said Lady Mary, slowly, "if you
left Peter to find out his wife's faults for himself; whether she be
Sarah--or another?"

CHAPTER XVI

Torrents of falling rain obscured the valley of the Youle. The grey
clouds floated below the ridges of the hills, and wreathed the
tree-tops. Against the dim purple of the distance, the October roses
held up melancholy, rain-washed heads; and sudden gusts of wind sent
little armies of dead, brown leaves racing over the stone pavement of
the terrace.

Lady Mary leant her forehead against the window, and gazed out upon
the autumn landscape; and John Crewys watched her with feelings not
altogether devoid of self-reproach.

Perhaps he had carried his prudent consideration too far.

His reverence for his beautiful lady--who reigned in John's inmost
thoughts as both saint and queen--had caused him to determine that she
must come to him, when she did come, without a shadow of self-reproach
to sully the joy of her surrender, the fulness, of her bliss, in the
perfect sympathy and devotion which awaited her.

But John Crewys--though passionately desiring her companionship, and
impatient of all barriers, real or imaginary, which divided her from
him--yet lived a life very full of work and interest and pleasure on
his own account. He was only conscious of his loneliness at times;
and when he was as busy as he had been during the early half of this
summer, he was hardly conscious of it at all.

He had not fully realized the effect that this time of waiting and
uncertainty might have upon her, in the solitude to which he had left
her, and which he had at first supposed would be altogether occupied
by Peter. Her letters--infrequent as he, in his self-denial, had
suggested--were characterized by a delicate reserve and a tacit
refusal to take anything for granted in their relations to each other,
which half charmed and half tantalized John; but scarcely enlightened
him regarding the suspense and sadness which at this time she was
called upon to bear.

When he came to Barracombe, he knew that she had suffered greatly
during these months of his absence, and reproached himself angrily for
blindness and selfishness.

He had spent the first weeks of his long vacation in Switzerland, in
order to bring the date of his visit to the Youle Valley as near as
possible to the date of Peter's coming of age; but, also, he had been
very much overworked, and felt an absol