Then suddenly a hand
gripped my arm, and a voice said sharply:--

"Don't cry, please! No necessity to cry. You are tired. I will order
the car. It shall be round in five minutes. You can surely pull
yourself together for five minutes?"

The voice was like a douche of cold water. I shivered under it, but
felt wonderfully braced.

"Oh, thank you, but we ordered a fly."

"That's all right. I'll see to that. No one shall know anything about
it. You will leave earlier than you expected--that's all. I'm sorry"--
his lean face twitched--"the time has seemed so long!"

"It's not"--I said feebly--"it's not that!" But he led the way back to
the drawing-room, taking no notice. Five minutes later "Mrs Fane's
carriage" was announced, and we bade a protesting hostess good-night.

Charmion and I sat silent, hand in hand, all the way home. She felt
cold as ice, but she clung to me; her fingers closed over mine. Just as
we reached our own door she whispered a few words.

"I'll come to your room, dear. Wait up for me."

The time had come when I was to hear Charmion's story from her own lips!

CHAPTER THIRTEEN.

MORE BITTER THAN DEATH.

Charmion came to my room in her white dressing-gown, with her long hair
hanging plaited down her back. Remembering the icy hands I had held in
mine, I had lit the gas fire, and she cowered gratefully over its
warmth.

"Kind of you, dear! Warmth is comforting. Well, Evelyn, so the time
has come. I have waited, screwing up my courage; but the hour has been
decided for us."

"Not unless you choose," I cried hastily. "I would far rather never
hear--"

She checked me with a wan smile.

"I _do_ choose. When it is over, it will be a relief. I want you to
know. You will understand better, and I shall not pain you so much,
dear, kind Evelyn, by my harsh ways. So all this time you have believed
that I was a happy widow?"

The expression jarred. She saw the shrinking in my eyes, and smiled
again, in the same wan, hopeless fashion.

"Oh, I _mean_ it. Death comes like a sword, but in the end it is
merciful, for it brings peace. The one who is left suffers many pangs,
but in time--in time, learns to be thankful for all that the beloved is
spared. It is the living troubles which sear the heart. I have envied
the widows who could look up and say, `It is well with him. We shall
meet again.' With me it has been all bitterness, all rebellion."

I sat silent, not dar