ded.

"Then I have one or two things to add. Whatever happens, do not lose
heart for one moment. I have seen these cases again and again....
Whatever happens, too, do not put yourself into a doctor's hands until
I have seen Mr. Baxter for myself. The thing may come suddenly or
gradually. And the very instant you are convinced it is coming,
telegraph to me. I will be here two hours after.... Do you
understand?"

They halted twenty yards from the turning into the hamlet. He looked
at her again with his kindly humorous eyes.

She nodded slowly and deliberately, repeating in her own mind his
instructions; and beneath, like a whirl of waters, questions surged to
and fro, clamoring for answer. But her self-control was coming back
each instant.

"You understand, Miss Deronnais?" he said again.

"I understand. Will you write to me?"

"I will write this evening.... Once more, then. Get him down next
week. Watch him carefully when he comes. Consult no doctor until you
have telegraphed to me, and I have seen him."

She drew a long breath, nodding almost mechanically.

"Good-bye, Miss Deronnais. Let me tell you that you are taking it
magnificently. Fear nothing; pray much."

He took her hand for a moment. Then he raised his hat and left her
standing there.

II

Mrs. Baxter was exceedingly absorbed just now in a new pious book of
meditations written by a clergyman. A nicely bound copy of it, which
she had ordered specially, had arrived by the parcels post that
morning; and she had been sitting in the drawing-room ever since
looking through it, and marking it with a small silver pencil.
Religion was to this lady what horticulture was to Maggie, except of
course that it was really important, while horticulture was not. She
often wondered that Maggie did not seem to understand: of course she
went to mass every morning, dear girl; but religion surely was much
more than that; one should be able to sit for two or three hours over
a book in the drawing-room, before the fire, with a silver pencil.

So at lunch she prattled of the book almost continuously, and at the
end of it thought Maggie more unsubtle than ever: she looked rather
tired and strained, thought the old lady, and she hardly said a word
from beginning to end.

The drive in the afternoon was equally unsatisfactory. Mrs. Baxter
took the book with her, and the pencil, in order to read aloud a few
extracts here and there; and she again seemed to find Maggie rat