eneford," was her reply. "But at present she's away
visiting one of her old schoolfellows--a girl who married a country
banker and lives near Hereford."

"Then she's in the country?"

"Yes, she went three days ago. I thought she had written to you. She
told me she intended doing so."

I had received no letter from her. Indeed, our recent correspondence
had been of a very infrequent and formal character. With a woman's
quick perception she had noted my coldness and had sought to show
equal callousness. With the knowledge of Courtenay's continued
existence now in my mind, I was beside myself with grief and anger at
having doubted her. But how could I act at that moment, save in
obedience to my friend Jevons' instructions? He had urged me to go and
find out some details regarding her recent life with the Hennikers;
and with that object I remarked:

"She hasn't been very well of late, I fear. The change of air should
do her good."

"That's true, poor girl. She's seemed very unwell, and I've often
told her that only one doctor in the world could cure her
malady--yourself."

I smiled. The malady was, I knew too well, the grief of a disappointed
love, and a perfect cure for that could only be accomplished by
reconciliation. I was filled with regret that she was absent, for I
longed there and then to take her to my breast and whisper into her
ear my heart's outpourings. Yes; we men are very foolish in our
impetuosity.

"How long will she be away?"

"Why?" inquired the smartly-dressed little woman, mischievously. "What
can it matter to you?"

"I have her welfare at heart, Mrs. Henniker," I answered seriously.

"Then you have a curious way of showing your solicitude on her
behalf," she said bluntly, smiling again. "Poor Ethelwynn has been
pining day after day for a word from you; but you seldom, if ever,
write, and when you do the coldness of your letters adds to her burden
of grief. I knew always when she had received one by the traces of
secret tears upon her cheeks. Forgive me for saying so, Doctor, but
you men, either in order to test the strength of a woman's affection,
or perhaps out of mere caprice, often try her patience until the
strained thread snaps, and she who was a good and pure woman becomes
reckless of everything--her name, her family pride, and even her own
honour."

Her words aroused my curiosity.

"And you believe that Ethelwynn's patience is exhausted?" I asked,
anxiously.

Her eyes met min