ht. He
sat down with elbows on knees and head on his hands, thinking of night,
its secrecy, its immeasurable solitude.

His eyelids twitched; the fire before him had for an instant gone black
out. He seemed to see slow-gesturing branches, grass stooping beneath
a grey and wind-swept sky. He started up; and the remembrance of the
morning returned to him--the glassy light, the changing rays, the
beaming gilt upon the useless books. Now, at last, at the windows;
afternoon had begun to wane. And when Sheila brought up his tea, as if
Chance had heard his cry, she entered in hat and stole. She put down the
tray, and paused at the glass, looking across it out of the window.

'Alice says you are to eat every one of those delicious sandwiches, and
especially the tiny omelette. You have scarcely touched anything to-day,
Arthur. I am a poor one to preach, I am afraid; but you know what that
will mean--a worse breakdown still. You really must try to think of--of
us all.'

'Are you going to church?' he asked in a low voice.

'Not, of course, if you would prefer not. But Dr Simon advised me most
particularly to go out at least once a day. We must remember, this is
not the beginning of your illness. Long-continued anxiety, I suppose,
does tell on one in time. Anyhow, he said that I looked worried and
run-down. I AM worried. Let us both try for each other's sakes, or even
if only for Alice's, to--to do all we can. I must not harass you; but is
there any--do you see the slightest change of any kind?'

'You always look pretty, Sheila; to-night you look prettier: THAT is the
only change, I think.'

Mrs Lawford's attitude intensified in its stillness. 'Now, speaking
quite frankly, what is it in you suggests these remarks at such a time?
That's what baffles me. It seems so childish, so needlessly blind.'

'I am very sorry, Sheila, to be so childish. But I'm not, say what
you like, blind. You ARE pretty: I'd repeat it if I was burning at the
stake.'

Sheila lowered her eyes softly on to the rich-toned picture in the
glass. 'Supposing,' she said, watching her lips move, 'supposing--of
course, I know you are getting better and all that--but supposing you
don't change back as Mr Bethany thinks, what will you do? Honestly,
Arthur, when I think over it calmly, the whole tragedy comes back on me
with such a force it sweeps me off my feet; I am for the moment scarcely
my own mistress. What would you do?'

'I think, Sheila,' replied a low