Honoria. "I am beginning to suspect that
is about the most deadly disease going. The only thing to be said in
its favour is that it is not infectious."

John Knott could not quite keep admiration from his eyes, or
provocation from his tongue. He richly enjoyed getting a rise out of
Miss St. Quentin.

"I am not so sure of that," he said. "In the case of beautiful women,
judging by history, it has shown a tendency to be recurrently sporadic
in any case."

"Recommend all such to spend a few months at Brockhurst then, under
existing circumstances," Honoria answered. "There will be very little
fear for them after that. They will have received such a warning,
swallowed such an antidote!--It is like assisting at the infliction of
slow torture. It almost gets on one's brain at times."

"Why do you stay on then?"

Honoria looked down at her muddy boots and then across at the doctor.
She was slightly the taller of the two, for in these days his figure
had fallen together and he had taken to stooping. Her expression had a
delightful touch of self-depreciation.

"Why does any one stay by a sinking ship, or volunteer for a forlorn
hope? Why do you sit up all night with a case of confluent smallpox, or
suck away the poisonous membrane from a diphtheric throat, as I hear
you did only last week? I don't know. Just because, if we are made on
certain lines, we have to, I suppose. One would be a trifle too much
ashamed to be seen in one's own company, afterwards, if one deserted.
It really requires less pluck to stick than to run--that's the reason
probably.--But about dear Lady Calmady. The excellent Clara was in
tears. Is there any fresh mischief over and above the only son?"

"Not at present. But it's an open question how soon there may
be.--Good-day, Mr. March. Been riding? Ought to be a bit careful of
that cranky chest of yours in this confounded weather.--Lady
Calmady?--Yes, as I was telling Miss St. Quentin, her strength is so
reduced that complications may arise any day. A chill, and her lungs
may go; a shock, and her heart. It comes to a mere question of the
point of least resistance. I won't guarantee the continued soundness of
any organ unless we get changed conditions, a let up of some sort."

The doctor looked up from under his eyebrows, first at Honoria and then
at Julius. He spoke bitterly, defiant of his inclination towards
tenderness.

"She's just worn herself out," he said, "that's the fact, in the
service o