ded wife, with a child as yo've borne to
another man?'

In a moment he could have bitten out his tongue. She looked at him
with the mute reproach which some of us see (God help us!) in the
eyes of the dead, as they come before our sad memories in the
night-season; looked at him with such a solemn, searching look,
never saying a word of reply or defence. Then she lay down,
motionless and silent. He had been instantly stung with remorse for
his speech; the words were not beyond his lips when an agony had
entered his heart; but her steady, dilated eyes had kept him dumb
and motionless as if by a spell.

Now he rushed to the bed on which she lay, and half knelt, half
threw himself upon it, imploring her to forgive him; regardless for
the time of any evil consequences to her, it seemed as if he must
have her pardon--her relenting--at any price, even if they both died
in the act of reconciliation. But she lay speechless, and, as far as
she could be, motionless, the bed trembling under her with the
quivering she could not still.

Philip's wild tones caught the nurse's ears, and she entered full of
the dignified indignation of wisdom.

'Are yo' for killing yo'r wife, measter?' she asked. 'She's noane so
strong as she can bear flytin' and scoldin', nor will she be for
many a week to come. Go down wi' ye, and leave her i' peace if yo're
a man as can be called a man!'

Her anger was rising as she caught sight of Sylvia's averted face.
It was flushed crimson, her eyes full of intense emotion of some
kind, her lips compressed; but an involuntary twitching
overmastering her resolute stillness from time to time. Philip, who
did not see the averted face, nor understand the real danger in
which he was placing his wife, felt as though he must have one word,
one responsive touch of the hand which lay passive in his, which was
not even drawn away from the kisses with which he covered it, any
more than if it had been an impassive stone. The nurse had fairly to
take him by the shoulders, and turn him out of the room.

In half an hour the doctor had to be summoned. Of course, the nurse
gave him her version of the events of the afternoon, with much
_animus_ against Philip; and the doctor thought it his duty to have
some very serious conversation with him.

'I do assure you, Mr. Hepburn, that, in the state your wife has been
in for some days, it was little less than madness on your part to
speak to her about anything that could give r