terwards, and
then heard from them at frequent intervals. Constance wrote in the best
of spirits, and with the keenest appreciation. She had never travelled
in Switzerland or Italy before and all was enchantingly novel to her.
They had journeyed through Basle to Lucerne, spending a few days in that
delightful spot, and thence proceeding by the Simplon Pass to Lugano and
the Italian lakes. Then we heard that they had gone further south than
had been at first contemplated; they had reached Rome, and were
intending to go on to Naples.

After the first few weeks we neither of us received any more letters
from John. It was always Constance who wrote, and even her letters
grew very much less frequent than had at first been the case. This was
perhaps natural, as the business of travel no doubt engrossed their
thoughts. But ere long we both perceived that the letters of our dear
girl were more constrained and formal than before. It was as if she was
writing now rather to comply with a sense of duty than to give vent to
the light-hearted gaiety and naive enjoyment which breathed in every
line of her earlier communications. So at least it seemed to us, and
again the old suspicion presented itself to my mind, and I feared that
all was not as it should be.

Naples was to be the turning-point of their travels, and we expected
them to return to England by the end of October. November had arrived,
however, and we still had no intimation that their return journey had
commenced or was even decided on. From John there was no word, and
Constance wrote less often than ever. John, she said, was enraptured
with Naples and its surroundings; he devoted himself much to the violin,
and though she did not say so, this meant, I knew, that she was often
left alone. For her own part, she did not think that a continued
residence in Italy would suit her health; the sudden changes of
temperature tried her, and people said that the airs rising in the
evening from the bay were unwholesome.

Then we received a letter from her which much alarmed us. It was written
from Naples and dated October 25. John, she said, had been ailing of
late with nervousness and insomnia. On Wednesday, two days before the
date of her letter, he had suffered all day from a strange restlessness,
which increased after they had retired for the evening. He could not
sleep and had dressed again, telling her he would walk a little in the
night air to compose himself. He had not ret