'Bless me,' said the vicar, taking out his watch, 'it is a quarter to
twelve. 'Yes, yes, Mrs Lawford,' he trotted round to the door. 'We are
beginning to see light--a ray!'

'But I--I can see in the dark,' whispered Lawford, as if at a cue,
turning with an inscrutable smile to the fire.

The vicar came again, wrapped up in a little tight grey great-coat, and
a white silk muffler. He looked up unflinching into Lawford's face,
and tears stood in his eyes. 'Patience, patience, my dear fellow,'
he repeated gravely, squeezing his hand. 'And rest, complete rest, is
imperative. Just till the first thing to-morrow. And till then,' he
turned to Mrs Lawford, where she stood looking in at the doorway, 'oh
yes, complete quiet; and caution!'

Mrs Lawford let him out. He shook his head once or twice, holding her
fingers. 'Oh yes,' he whispered, 'it is your husband, not the smallest
doubt. I tried: for MYSELF. But something--something has happened. Don't
fret him now. Have patience. Oh yes, it is incredible... the change! But
there, the very first thing to-morrow.' She closed the door gently
after him, and stepping softly back to the dining-room, peered in. Her
husband's back was turned, but he could see her in the looking-glass,
stooping a little, with set face watching him, in the silvery stillness.

'Well,' he said, 'is the old--' he doggedly met the fixed eyes facing
him there, 'is our old friend gone?'

'Yes,' said Sheila, 'he's gone.' Lawford sighed and turned round. 'It's
useless talking now, Sheila. No more questions. I cannot tell you how
tired I am. And my head--'

'What is wrong with your head?' inquired his wife discreetly.

The haggard face turned gravely and patiently. 'Only one of my old
headaches.' he smiled, 'my old bilious headaches--the hereditary Lawford
variety.' But his voice fell low again. 'We must get to bed.'

With a rather pretty and childish movement, Sheila gently drew her hands
across her silk skirts. 'Yes, dear,' she said, 'I have made up a bed for
you in the large spare room. It is thoroughly aired.' She came softly
in, hastened over to a closed work-table that stood under the curtains,
and opened it.

Lawford watched her, utterly expressionless, utterly motionless. He
opened his mouth and shut it again, still watching his wife as she
stooped with ridiculously too busy fingers, searching through her
coloured silks.

Again he opened his mouth. 'Yes,' he said, and stalked slowly towards
the do