ew that it was the result of
a loss of tone from staying in-doors so much, but he did not say so.)

"My reflections. Doctor, you must not come here any more. They begin
to think it a farce already. I say you must come no more. There--don't
be angry with me;" and she jumped up, pressed his hand, and looked
anxiously at him. "It is necessary. It is best for both you and me."

"But," said Fitzpiers, gloomily, "what have we done?"

"Done--we have done nothing. Perhaps we have thought the more.
However, it is all vexation. I am going away to Middleton Abbey, near
Shottsford, where a relative of my late husband lives, who is confined
to her bed. The engagement was made in London, and I can't get out of
it. Perhaps it is for the best that I go there till all this is past.
When are you going to enter on your new practice, and leave Hintock
behind forever, with your pretty wife on your arm?"

"I have refused the opportunity. I love this place too well to depart."

"You HAVE?" she said, regarding him with wild uncertainty.

"Why do you ruin yourself in that way? Great Heaven, what have I done!"

"Nothing. Besides, you are going away."

"Oh yes; but only to Middleton Abbey for a month or two. Yet perhaps I
shall gain strength there--particularly strength of mind--I require it.
And when I come back I shall be a new woman; and you can come and see
me safely then, and bring your wife with you, and we'll be friends--she
and I. Oh, how this shutting up of one's self does lead to indulgence
in idle sentiments. I shall not wish you to give your attendance to me
after to-day. But I am glad that you are not going away--if your
remaining does not injure your prospects at all."

As soon as he had left the room the mild friendliness she had preserved
in her tone at parting, the playful sadness with which she had
conversed with him, equally departed from her. She became as heavy as
lead--just as she had been before he arrived. Her whole being seemed
to dissolve in a sad powerlessness to do anything, and the sense of it
made her lips tremulous and her closed eyes wet. His footsteps again
startled her, and she turned round.

"I returned for a moment to tell you that the evening is going to be
fine. The sun is shining; so do open your curtains and put out those
lights. Shall I do it for you?"

"Please--if you don't mind."

He drew back the window-curtains, whereupon the red glow of the lamp
and the two candle-fla