e,"
said he, "she could sit up in bed. With an exertion, you know! To-day
she can't do it at all." Both remained silent, and seemed to accept a
conclusion that did not need words. Then the doctor resumed, speaking
very quietly:--"It is always like this. Two steps back and one
forward--two steps back and one forward. We see the one step on because
we want to. We don't want to see what's unwelcome. So we don't discount
the losses."

Then Gwen, with that quiet resolution which he had known to be part of
her character, or he would scarcely have been so explicit, said:--"What
will she die of?"

"Old age, accelerated by mental perturbation."

"Can you at all guess when?"

"If she had any definite malady, I could guess better. She may linger on
for weeks. It won't go to months, in any case. Or she may pop off before
that clock strikes."

"Shall we tell them?"

"I say no. _No._ They will probably have her the longer for not knowing.
And, mind you, she is keeping her faculties. She's wonderfully bright,
and is suffering absolutely nothing."

"You are sure of that?"

"Absolutely sure. Go in and talk to her now. You'll find her quite
herself, but for a little fancifulness at times. It really is no more
than that.... By-the-by!..."

"What?"

"Do _you_ know what was in the letter that upset her so? The old Granny
did not say what was in it, and charged me to say nothing to her
daughter." The doctor had all but said:--"To _their_ daughter!"

"I know what was in the letter." Gwen paused a moment to consider how
much she should tell, and then took the doctor into her confidence; not
exhaustively, but sufficiently. "You are supposed to know nothing about
it," said she. "But I don't think it much matters, so long as
Ruth--Widow Thrale--does not know. That is her mother's wish. I don't
suppose she really minds, about you."

"All I can say is, I wish to God this infernal scoundrel's devil would
fly away with him. Good-morning. I shall be round again about six
o'clock."

CHAPTER XXVII

HOW SPARROWS GORMANDISE. DAVE'S CISTERN. DOLLY AND JONES'S BULL.
THE LETTER HAD DONE IT. HOW TOM KETTERING DROVE WIDOW THRALE TO
DENBY'S FARM, AND MAISIE WOKE UP. HOW DAVE ATE TOO MANY MULBERRIES.
OLD JASPER. OLD GOSSET AND CULLODEN. HIS TOES. HOW MAISIE ASKED TO
SEE THE OLD MODEL AGAIN, AND HAD IT OUT BESIDE THE BED. DID IT GO
ROUND, OR WAS DAVE MISTAKEN? THE GLASS WATER, AND HOW MAISIE HAD
BROKEN