e added, smiling, stretching out his arms, his soft hat in one
hand, his umbrella in the other--'this is being circumspect--a seven
o'clock in the morning call! But you see, my dear, I have come, as I
took the precaution of explaining to the maid, because it's now or
never to-day. It does so happen that I have to take a wedding for an old
friend's niece at Witchett; so when in need, you see, Providence enables
us to tell even the conventional truth. Now really, how is he? has he
slept? has he recalled himself at all? is there any change?--and, dear
me, how are YOU?'

Mrs Lawford sighed. 'A broken night is really very little to a mother,'
she said. 'He is still asleep. He hasn't, I think, stirred all night.'

'Not stirred!' Mr Bethany repeated. 'You baffle me. And you have
watched?'

'Oh no,' was the cheerful answer; 'I felt that quiet, solitude; space,
was everything; he preferred it so. He--he changed alone, I suppose.
Don't you think it almost stands to reason that he will be alone...when
he comes back? Was I right? But there, it's useless, it's worse than
useless, to talk like this. My husband is gone. Some terrible thing has
happened. Whatever the mystery may be, he will never come back alive. My
only fear is that I am dragging you into a matter that should from the
beginning have been entrusted to--Oh, it's monstrous!' It appeared for a
moment as if she were blinking to keep back her tears, yet her scrutiny
seemed merely to harden.

Only the merest flicker of the folded eyelids over the greenish eyes of
her visitor answered the challenge. He stood small and black, peeping
fixedly out of the window at the sunflecked laurels.

'Last night,' he said slowly, 'when I said good-bye to your husband, on
the tip of my tongue were the words I have used, in season and out of
season, for nearly forty-five years--"God knows best." Well, my dear
lady, a sense of humour, a sense of reverence, or perhaps even a taint
of scepticism--call it what you will--just intercepted them. Oh no,
not any of these, my child; just pity, overwhelming pity. God does know
best; but in a matter like this it is not even my place to say so. It
would be good for none of us to endanger our souls even with verbal
cant. Now, if, do you think, I had just five minutes' talk--five
minutes; would it disquiet him?'

Only by an almost undignified haste, for the vicar was remarkably
agile, Sheila managed to unlock the bedroom door without apparently his
p