a little cry from Eugenie--deprecating, full of pain.

Phoebe took no notice of it. She went straight to her visitor.

'Where is my husband, please?' she said, in a strong, hoarse voice,
mechanically holding out her hand, which Eugenie touched and then let
drop--so full of rugged, passionate things were the face and form she
looked at.

'He's coming by the afternoon train.' Eugenie threw all her will into
calmness and clearness. 'He gets to Windermere before five--and
he thought he might be here a little after six. He was so ill
yesterday--when I found him--when I went to see him! That's what
he wanted me to tell you before you saw him again--and so I came
first--by the night train.'

'You went to see him--yesterday?' said Phoebe, still in the same tense
way.

She had never asked her guest to sit, and she stood herself, one hand
leaning heavily on the table.

'I had heard from the lawyers--the lawyers my father had recommended
to Mr. Fenwick--that they had found a clue--they had discovered some
traces of you in Canada--and I went to tell him.'

'Lawyers?' Phoebe raised her left hand in bewilderment. 'I don't
understand.'

Eugenie came a little nearer. Hurriedly, with changing colour, she
gave an account of the researches of the lawyers during the preceding
seven months--interrupted in the middle by Phoebe.

'But why was John looking for us, after--after all this time?' she
said, in a fainter, weaker voice, dropping at the same time into a
chair.

Eugenie hesitated; then said, firmly, 'Because he wished to find you,
more than anything else in the world. And my father and I helped him
all we could--'

'But you didn't know?'--Phoebe caught piteously at her dress--'you
didn't know--?'

'That Mr. Fenwick was married? No--never!--till last autumn. That was
his wrong-doing, towards all his old friends.'

Phoebe looked at the dignity and pureness of the face before her, and
shrank a little.

'And how was it found out?' she breathed, turning away.

'There was a Miss Morrison--'

'Bella Morrison!' cried Phoebe, suddenly, clasping her hands--'Bella!
Of course, she did it to disgrace him.'

'We never knew what her motive was. But she told--an old friend--who
told us.'

'And then--what did John say?'

The wife's hands shook--her eyes were greedy for an answer.

'Oh! it was all miserable!' said Eugenie, with a gesture of emotion.
'It made my father very angry, and we could not be friends any
more--as we h