he remained silent.

"I have been thinking," he began awkwardly, "over what you said
yesterday--about Evelyn. You remember?"

"Yes."

"And I have been wanting to tell you that I believe you were right.
You generally are. I believe we ought to give her the chance you spoke
of. Besides--I asked too much of you. This may be a slow business; and
really we have no right to trade on your unselfishness to the extent I
proposed. You understand me?"

For the life of him he could not ask her to go outright; his excuse
appeared to him lame enough to be an insult itself. A fierce
temptation assailed him to push up the detested shade and discover
whether he had hurt this girl, who had done so infinitely much for
him. But he grasped the side of his chair, keeping his arm rigid as
steel; and awaited her answer, which seemed an eternity in coming.

Indeed, if he had struck her, Honor could scarcely have been more
stunned, more indignant, than she was at that moment. But when she
found her voice it was at least steady, if not devoid of emotion.

"No, Theo," she said. "For the first time in my life I _don't_
understand you. But I see clearly--what you wish; and if you feel
absolutely certain that you are making the right decision for Evelyn,
I have no more to say. For myself, you are asking a far harder thing
to-day than you did yesterday. But that is no matter, if it is really
best for you both--I don't quite know what Dr Mackay will say. I will
see him about it this evening; and you will please tell
Evelyn--yourself."

He knew now that he had hurt her cruelly; and with knowledge came the
revelation that he was playing a coward's part in rewarding her thus
for all she had done; in depriving Evelyn of her one support and
shield, merely because he distrusted his own self-mastery at a time of
severe mental stress and bodily weakness.

His imperative need for a sight of her face conquered him at last.
Quick as thought his hand went up to the rim of the shade. But Honor
was quicker still. The instinct to shield him from harm swept
everything else aside. In a second she had reached him and secured his
hand.

"You _shall not_ do that!" she said--anger, fear, determination
vibrating in her low tone.

Then, to her astonishment, she found her own hand crushed in his, with
a force that brought tears into her eyes. But he remained silent; and
she neither spoke nor stirred. Emotion dominated her; and her whole
mind was concentrated on