up and
down the terrace with clenched hands while I swallowed it. And when I
discovered the fallacy of the annual fly, I was just as particular in
my dread of an accidental one. I don't believe I ever sat down to
sardines on toast at a restaurant without looking under the toast for
my bugbear, though as I lifted it I felt rather like the old woman who
always looks under the bed for a burglar. Ah, but since the accident
this foolishly small thing HAS made me suffer! I cannot say: 'Simpson,
are you sure there is not a fly in this soup?' Simpson would say:
'No--sir; no fly--sir,' and would cough behind his hand, and I could
never ask him again."

Nurse Rosemary leaned forward and placed his cup where he could reach
it easily, just touching his right hand with the edge of the saucer.
"Have all your meals with me," she said, in a tone of such complete
understanding, that it was almost a caress; "and I can promise there
shall never be any flies in anything. Could you not trust my eyes for
this?"

And Garth replied, with a happy, grateful smile: "I could trust your
kind and faithful eyes for anything. Ah! and that reminds me: I want to
intrust to them a task I could confide to no one else. Is it twilight
yet, Miss Gray, or is an hour of daylight left to us?"

Nurse Rosemary glanced out of the window and looked at her watch. "We
ordered tea early," she said, "because we came in from our drive quite
hungry. It is not five o'clock yet, and a radiant afternoon. The sun
sets at half-past seven."

"Then the light is good," said Garth. "Have you finished tea? The sun
will be shining in at the west window of the studio. You know my studio
at the top of the house? You fetched the studies of Lady Brand from
there. I dare say you noticed stacks of canvases in the corners. Some
are unused; some contain mere sketches or studies; some are finished
pictures. Miss Gray, among the latter are two which I am most anxious
to identify and to destroy. I made Simpson guide me up the other day
and leave me there alone. And I tried to find them by touch; but I
could not be sure, and I soon grew hopelessly confused amongst all the
canvases. I did not wish to ask Simpson's help, because the subjects,
are--well, somewhat unusual, and if he found out I had destroyed them
it might set him wondering and talking, and one hates to awaken
curiosity in a servant. I could not fall back on Sir Deryck because he
would have recognised the portraits. The princi