n;
and I never brought any dishonor on his name. And at last I thought the
best thing for us both would be to set him free. And I wrote to him that
he _was_ free. But there was some hitch--I don't know what exactly. Any
way, we're bound to each other as fast as ever we were, so we needn't
think to get rid of each other just yet."

Janetta felt a throb of thankfulness, for Margaret's sake. Suppose she
had yielded to Wyvis' solicitations and become his wife, to be proved
only no wife at all? Her want of love for Wyvis had at least saved her
from terrible misery. Mrs. Brand went on, reflectively--

"When I'm gone, he can marry whom he likes. I only hope it'll be anybody
as good as you. You'd make a capital mother to Julian. And I don't
suppose I shall trouble anybody very long."

"You are getting better--you will soon be perfectly well."

"Nonsense: nothing of the kind. But if I am, I know one thing," said
Mrs. Brand, in a petulant tone; "I won't be kept out of my rights any
longer. This house seems to be nice and comfortable: I shall stay here.
I am tired of wandering about the world."

Janetta was silent and went on with some needle-work.

"You don't like that, do you?" said Mrs. Brand, peering into her face.
"You think I'd be better away."

"No," said Janetta. But she could not say more.

"Do you know where he is?"

"He? Wyvis?"

"Yes, my husband."

"I have an address. I do not know whether he is there or not, but he
would no doubt get a letter if sent to the place. Do you wish to write
to him?"

"No. But I want you to write. Write and say that I am here. Ask him to
come back."

"You had better write yourself."

"No. He would not read it. Write for me."

Janetta could not refuse. But she felt it one of the hardest tasks that
she had ever had to perform in life. She was sorry for Juliet Brand, but
she shrank with all her heart and soul from writing to Wyvis to return
to her. Yet what else could she do?

CHAPTER XXXVI.

THE FRUITS OF A LIE.

When she told old Mrs. Brand what she had done, she was amazed to mark
the change which came over that sad and troubled countenance. Mrs.
Brand's face flushed violently, her eyes gleamed with a look as near
akin to wrath as any which Janetta had ever seen upon it.

"You have promised to write to Wyvis?" she cried. "Why? What is it to
you? Why should you write?"

"Why should I not?" asked Janetta, in surprise.

"He will never come back to her--never