room, then dragged aside the heavy yellow curtains which had
been drawn before the central window.

"Look over there, Catherine," he said meaningly. "Can you see the Eype?
The moon gives but little light to-night, but the stars are bright. I
can see a glimmer at yon window. They must be still waiting for James to
come home."

"I see the glimmer you mean," she said dully. "No doubt they leave a
lamp burning all night, as we do. James must have got home hours ago,
Charles." She saw that the cuff of her husband's coat was also covered
with dark, damp stains, and again she wondered uneasily what he had been
doing out of doors.

"Catherine?" Charles Nagle turned her round, ungently, and forced her to
look up into his face. "Have you ever thought what 'twould be like to
live at the Eype?"

The question startled her. She roused herself to refute what she felt to
be an unworthy accusation. "No, Charles," she said, looking at him
steadily. "God is my witness that at no time did I think of living at
the Eype! Such a wish never came to me----"

"Nor to me!" he cried, "nor to me, Catherine! All the long years that
James Mottram was in Jamaica the thought never once came to me that he
might die, and I survive him. After all we were much of an age, he had
but two years the advantage of me. I always thought that the boy--my
aunt's son, curse him!--would get it all. Then, had I thought of it--and
I swear I never did think of it--I should have told myself that any day
James might bring a wife to the Eype----"

He was staring through the leaded panes with an intent, eager gaze. "It
is a fine house, Catherine, and commodious. Larger, airier than
ours--though perhaps colder," he added thoughtfully. "Cold I always
found it in winter when I used to stay there as a boy--colder than this
house. You prefer Edgecombe, Catherine? If you were given a choice, is
it here that you would live?" He looked at her, as if impatient for an
answer.

"Every stone of Edgecombe, our home, is dear to me," she said solemnly.
"I have never admired the Eype. It is too large, too cold for my taste.
It stands too much exposed to the wind."

"It does! it does!" There was a note of regret in his voice. He let the
curtain fall and looked about him rather wildly.

"And now, Charles," she said, "shall we not say our prayers and retire
to rest."

"If I had only thought of it," he said, "I might have said my prayers in
the chapel. But there was much to do. I