aside to the
tray that Dimsdale's consideration had provided.

"A great deal more often than you imagine," smiled Lucas. "Must you
really do the waiting? It's very bad for me, you know."

He joked with her gently through the light repast that followed. And
though she scarcely responded, she let him see her gratitude.

Finally, he laid aside all pretence of humour and spoke to her very
quietly and gravely of her husband. The doctor thought it advisable to
remove him from the Manor with as little delay as possible. He would
consult her about it in the morning. His brain was without doubt very
seriously affected, and it might take some months to recover. It was
essential that he should be taken away from familiar surroundings and
people whom he knew.

Anne listened with a whitening face. She asked no questions. Lucas
supplied every detail with the precision that characterised most of his
utterances. Finally he spoke of her position, advised her strongly to
employ an agent for the estate, and promised his help in this or any
other matter in which she might care to avail herself of it.

He seemed to take it for granted that she would remain at the head of
affairs, and it gradually dawned upon Anne that she could not well do
otherwise. Her presence for a time at least seemed indispensable. The
responsibility had become hers and she could not at that stage shake it
off. Her dream of freedom was over. Of what the future might hold for her
she could not even begin to think. But the present was very clearly
defined. It remained only for her to "do the work that was nearest" as
bravely as she might.

When Lucas ended she leaned forward and gave him her hand. "I wonder
what I should have done without you," she said. "I believe I should
have gone mad too."

"No, no, Lady Carfax!"

She smiled faintly; the tears were standing in her eyes. "Yes, I know.
You don't like to be thanked. But you have been like a mother to me in my
trouble, and--I shall always remember it."

The blue eyes began to twinkle humorously. The hand that held hers closed
with a very friendly pressure.

"Well," drawled the kindly American voice, "I'll be shot if that
isn't the kindest thing that anyone ever said to me. And I believe
you meant it too."

"Yes, I meant it," Anne said.

And though she smiled also there was genuine feeling in her words.

PART II

CHAPTER I

THE JESTER'S RETURN

The gradual coming of spring that year was