trides of your
recovery."

Mr. Caryll straightened himself from his stooping posture, turned and
made Lady Ostermore a bow, his whole manner changed again to that which
was habitual to him. "And no less decidedly, my lady," said he with a
tight-lipped smile, "may I congratulate your ladyship's son upon that
happy circumstance, which is--as I have learned--so greatly due to the
steps your ladyship took--for which I shall be ever grateful--to ensure
that I should be made whole again."

CHAPTER XIII. THE FORLORN HOPE

Her ladyship stood a moment, leaning upon her cane, her head thrown
back, her thin lip curling, and her eyes playing over Mr. Caryll with a
look of dislike that she made no attempt to dissemble.

Mr. Caryll found the situation redolent with comedy. He had a quick
eye for such matters; so quick an eye that he deplored on the present
occasion her ladyship's entire lack of a sense of humor. But for
that lamentable shortcoming, she might have enjoyed with him
the grotesqueness of her having--she, who disliked him so
exceedingly--toiled and anguished, robbed herself of sleep, and hoped
and prayed with more fervor, perhaps, than she had ever yet hoped and
prayed for anything, that his life might be spared.

Her glance shifted presently from him to Hortensia, who had risen and
who stood in deep confusion at having been so found by her ladyship,
and in deep agitation still arising from the things he had said and
from those which he had been hindered from adding by the coming of the
countess.

The explanations that had been interrupted might never be renewed; she
felt they never would be; he would account that he had said enough;
since he was determined to ask for nothing. And unless the matter were
broached again, what chance had she of combatting his foolish scruples;
for foolish she accounted them; they were of no weight with her, unless,
indeed, to heighten the warm feeling that already she had conceived for
him.

Her ladyship moved forward a step or two, her fan going gently to and
fro, stirring the barbs of the white plume that formed part of her tall
head-dress.

"What were you doing here, child?" she inquired, very coldly.

Mistress Winthrop looked up--a sudden, almost scared glance it was.

"I, madam? Why--I was walking in the garden, and seeing Mr. Caryll here,
I came to ask him how he did; to offer to read to him if he would have
me."

"And the Maidstone matter not yet cold in its gra