ncoise
entered the room.

"I came with a message from the portress, good mother. She says that a
young woman has come from L'Ange, who claims to be the wife of the
wounded man, and insists upon being admitted to see him. The portress
does not know what to do, and has sent me to you for instructions," said
Sister Francoise.

"The wounded man is sleeping and must not be awakened. Tell the portress
to keep the young woman in the parlor until she can be permitted to see
the patient, then do you go to the Old Men's Home, inquire for Monsieur
le Doctor Dubourg, and announce to him the arrival of this woman, and let
him use his medical discretion about admitting her. Go."

"Yes, holy mother," said Sister Francoise, retreating.

"You have not had a moment's peace since this unhappy man has been in the
house," said Salome, compassionately.

"No," smiled the lady. "Of course not, but it cannot be helped. We must
bear one another's burdens."

The loud ringing of the dinner-bell arrested the conversation.

"Come, we will go down," said the abbess, rising.

They descended to the refectory.

The long hall, that had been the scene of so much horror and confusion in
the morning, was now restored to its normal condition.

The plain, frugal, midday meal of the abbess and the elder nuns was
arranged with pure cleanliness upon the table, where, but a few hours
before, the body of the wounded man had lain. But the awful event of the
morning had taken a deep effect upon the quiet and sensitive sisterhood.
They sat down at the table, but scarcely touched the food.

When the form of dining--for it was little more than a form that day--was
over, the abbess and her nuns arose, and separated about their several
vocations.

Later on, the abbess sent a message to the Old Men's Home, inquiring
after the wounded man.

She received an answer to the effect that the patient had waked up, and
had been told of the telegram from the Duke of Hereward, and the expected
arrival of his grace at five o'clock.

The news had satisfied the suffering man, who had been calmer ever since
its reception. He had also been told of the arrival of his wife, but he
had declined to see her, or _any_ one, until he should have seen the
Duke of Hereward. He was saving up all his little strength for his
interview with the duke.

As the hours of the afternoon crept slowly away, the impatience of the
young wife, Salome, arose to fever heat. She could not rest in