e fulfil her intention of visiting Benjulia? She was not a
person who readily changed her mind--and, besides, after the troubles
of the morning, the drive into the country would be a welcome relief.
Hearing that Mr. Gallilee was still at home, she looked in at the
smoking-room. Unerring instinct told her where to find her husband,
under present circumstances. There he was, enjoying his cigar in
comfort, with his coat off and his feet on a chair. She opened the door.
"I want you, this evening," she said--and shut the door again; leaving
Mr. Gallilee suffocated by a mouthful of his own smoke.

Before getting into the carriage, she only waited to restore her face
with a flush of health (from Paris), modified by a sprinkling of pallor
(from London). Benjulia's humour was essentially an uncertain humour. It
might be necessary to fascinate the doctor.

CHAPTER XXX.

The complimentary allusion to Ovid, which Benjulia had not been able
to understand, was contained in a letter from Mr. Morphew, and was
expressed in these words:--"Let me sincerely thank you for making us
acquainted with Mr. Ovid Vere. Now that he has left us, we really feel
as if we had said good-bye to an old friend. I don't know when I have
met with such a perfectly unselfish man--and I say this, speaking from
experience of him. In my unavoidable absence, he volunteered to attend a
serious case of illness, accompanied by shocking circumstances--and
this at a time when, as you know, his own broken health forbids him to
undertake any professional duty. While he could preserve the patient's
life--and he did wonders, in this way--he was every day at the bedside,
taxing his strength in the service of a perfect stranger. I fancy I see
you (with your impatience of letter-writing at any length) looking to
the end. Don't be alarmed. I am writing to your brother Lemuel by this
mail, and I have little time to spare."

Was this "serious case of illness"--described as being "accompanied by
shocking circumstances"--a case of disease of the brain?

There was the question, proposed by Benjulia's inveterate suspicion of
Ovid! The bare doubt cost him the loss of a day's work. He reviled poor
Mr. Morphew as "a born idiot" for not having plainly stated what the
patient's malady was, instead of wasting paper on smooth sentences,
encumbered by long words. If Ovid had alluded to his Canadian patient in
his letters to his mother, his customary preciseness of language might