her past
and he would trouble her no more. He would not make her any reproaches,
for of what use? And, besides, she had suffered enough. He would go
abroad at once, and see his mother for a day at Cannes, and tell her his
arrangements, and that Zara and he had agreed to part--he would give her
no further explanations--and then he would go on to India and Japan.
And, after this, his plans were vague. It seemed as if life were too
impossible to look ahead, but not until he could think of Zara with
calmness would he return to England.

And if Zara's week of separation from him had been grief and suffering,
his had been hell.

On the Saturday morning, after her uncle had started for Dover, a note,
sent by hand, was brought to Zara. It was again only a few words, merely
to say if it was convenient to her, he--Tristram--would come at two
o'clock, as he was motoring down to Wrayth at three, and was leaving
England on Monday night.

Her hand trembled too much to write an answer.

"Tell the messenger I will be here," she said; and she sat then for a
long time, staring in front of her.

Then a thought came to her. Whether she were well enough or no she must
go and question Jenny. So, to the despair of her maid, she wrapped
herself in furs and started. She felt extremely faint when she got into
the air, but her will pulled her through, and when she got there the
little servant put her doubts at rest.

Yes, a very tall, handsome gentleman had come a few minutes after
herself, and she had taken him up, thinking he was the doctor.

"Why, missus," she said, "he couldn't have stayed a minute. He come away
while the Count was playin' his fiddle."

So this was how it was! Her thoughts were all in a maze: she could not
reason. And when she got back to the Park Lane house she felt too feeble
to go any further, even to the lift.

Her maid came and took her furs from her, and she lay on the library
sofa, after Henriette had persuaded her to have a little chicken broth;
and then she fell into a doze, and was awakened only by the sound of the
electric bell. She knew it was her husband coming, and sat up, with a
wildly beating heart. Her trembling limbs would not support her as she
rose for his entrance, and she held on by the back of a chair.

And, grave and pale with the torture he had been through, Tristram came
into the room.

CHAPTER XLI

He stopped dead short when he saw her so white and fragile looking. Then
he excl