trace of colour, "I told you that you could read a woman's heart. I
did not know you were also qualified to act as her physician."

"If the first part of my treatment is deemed successful, then I hope you
will adopt the second. I am quite in earnest concerning Whitby, or Cromer,
if you do not care to go far north."

"But, Mr. Brett, how can I possibly leave Beechcroft now?"

"Did Mr. Capella consult you when he went to Naples? Are you not mistress
here? Take my advice. Give the majority of your servants a holiday. Close
your house, or, better still, have every room dismantled on the pretence
of a thorough renovation. Leave it to paperhangers, plasterers, and
caretakers. The rector may be persuaded to allow Miss Layton to come with
you to London, where you should visit your dressmaker, for you can now
dispense with mourning. When your husband returns from Naples, let him
rage to the top of his bent. By that time I may be able to spare Mr. Hume
to look after both of you for a week or so. Permit your husband to join
you when he humbly seeks permission--not before. Believe me, Mrs. Capella,
if you have strength of will to adopt my programme in its entirety, the
trip to Naples may have results wholly unexpected by the runaway."

"Really, Margaret, Mr. Brett's advice seems to me to be very sensible. It
happens, too, that my father needs a change of air, and I think we could
both persuade him to come with us to the coast."

Helen, like all well regulated young Englishwomen, quickly took a
reasonable view of the problem. Already Capella's heroics and his wife's
lamentations began to appear ridiculous.

Margaret looked wistfully at both of them.

"You do not understand why my husband has gone to Naples," she said
slowly, seemingly revolving something in her mind.

"I think I can guess his motive," said the barrister.

"Tell me your explanation of the riddle," she answered lightly, though a
shadow of fear crossed her eyes.

"Soon after your marriage he imagined that he discovered certain facts
connected with your family--possibly relative to your brother's
death--which served to estrange him from you. Whatever they may be,
whether existent or fanciful, you are in no way responsible. He has gone
to Naples to obtain proofs of his suspicions, or knowledge. He will come
back to terrorise you, perhaps to seek revenge for imaginary wrongs.
Therefore, I say, do not meet him half-way by sitting here, blanched and
fearful, unti