tinctly good-looking man
walked in.

"Miss Blackhall--how unkind to deny me admittance. You must know how
fearfully anxious I am. How is she?"

"There's the doctor--ask him."

The stranger turned eagerly.

"This is not serious, I trust. She was always delicate, but--it is
wonderful how she pulls together when the worst is over."

For almost the first time in his life John Chetwynd was tongue-tied.

Who and what was this man, and what was he to Bella? He forced
himself to give a professional opinion, and answered mechanically a
string of questions Mr. Bolingbroke poured forth, but he hardly knew
what he was saying.

"If only she gets over this she shall never be bothered any more,
poor darling," he said brokenly. "I suppose I can go in, eh?"

His hand was on the door--John Chetwynd sprang to his feet.

"No one must see her," he cried excitedly. "I absolutely forbid it.
It would be most dangerous--most improper."

The two men looked into each other's faces for the space of several
seconds; then Mr. Bolingbroke turned away with a sigh and an
impatient word. "Absurd! As if I could do her any harm," he said.
"Well, I will be round again later in the day," he added with a nod
to Saidie, and a minute later the hall door shut upon him.

"Who is that man?" asked Sir John sternly.

Saidie shrugged her shoulders.

"You shall tell me--what is he to Bella?"

"He is a good and noble man, and let me tell you there ain't too many
knocking around. If she lives to get over this he will make her his
wife."

And there was silence--a silence in which John Chetwynd read clearly
his own heart at last, and stood face to face with facts--facts
stripped of false adornments--naked, convincing.

Then he strode across the room and entered that in which Bella lay.

She was asleep, and he drew his chair close to the bedside and fixed
his eyes on the wan, thin face, fever flushed, and fought the
fiercest battle of his life with his inner self; and when the
struggle was over, Pride lay in tatters and Love was conqueror.

She slept at intervals almost the whole of that day. Waking late in
the afternoon, her eyes fell on the silent watcher by her side, and
she smiled happily, contentedly.

Saidie bent over her and whispered a word or two.

"No--no," cried Bella vehemently; "send him away. I don't want to see
him."

"But he is so anxious, dear."

"Is he?--poor Charlie! Tell him I am in no pain, and I should like to
think he w