beside the bed, ready to
hold him down if in his delirium he should attempt to throw himself out
of the window, was awkward and uncouth in a sick-room. Mrs. Jenkins,
although ready and willing to help, was longing to steal away to her
little children at home. The landlady down-stairs had announced that she
could not possibly undertake to wait upon an invalid. All these facts
became clear to Cynthia in a very little time. She saw, as soon as she
entered the room, that the window-blind was awry and the curtains were
wrongly hung, that the table and the chest of drawers were crowded with
an untidy array of bottles, cups and glasses, and that the whole aspect
of the place was desolate. This fact did not concern her at present
however; her attention was given wholly and at once to the sick man.

She stood for a minute or two at the foot of the bed, realising with a
pang the fact that he did not know her. His eyes rested upon her as he
spoke; but there was no recognition in them. She could not hear all he
said; but, between strings of incoherent words and unintelligible
phrases, some sentences caught her ear.

"She will not come," said the sick man--"she has given me up entirely!
Quite right too! The world would say that she was perfectly right. And I
am in the wrong--always--I have always been wrong; and there is no way
out of it. Some one said that to me once--no way out of it--no way out
of it--no way out of it--oh, Heaven!"

The sentence ended with a moan of agony which made Cynthia writhe with
pain.

"He's always saying that," Jenkins whispered to her--"'No way out of
it!' He keeps coming back to that as if--as if there was something on
his mind."

Cynthia raised her hand to silence him. The torrent of words broke out
again.

"It was not all my fault. It was Flossy's fault; but one cannot betray a
woman, one's sister--can one? Even she would say that. But she has gone
away, and she will never come back again. Cynthia--Cynthia! I might call
as long as I pleased--she would never come. Why don't you fetch her,
some of you? So many people here, and nobody will bring Cynthia to me!
Cynthia, Cynthia, my love!"

"I am here, dear--I am here, beside you," said Cynthia.

But he did not seem to understand. She touched his hot hand with her
own, and smoothed his fevered brow. The restless tongue went on.

"She has given me up, and I shall never see her any more! She gave me
too hard a task; I could not do it--not all at o