the door of communication with the next room
was suddenly opened. Hubert stood there, leaning on Jenkins' arm--for he
was still exceedingly weak--and the start of surprise which he gave when
he saw Enid and Cynthia was uncontrollable. Cynthia dropped Enid's hand
and turned away; there was something in her face which she could not
bear to have seen. Enid advanced towards her cousin, and held out her
hand in quiet friendly greeting.

CHAPTER XLVI.

"I have come to answer your note myself," said Enid to her cousin, as he
made his way with faltering steps into the room. "I hope that you are
better now?"

Hubert had seldom felt himself in a more uncomfortable position. What
did this mean? Had Enid and Cynthia been comparing notes? He looked from
one to the other in helpless dismay, and scarcely answered Enid's
inquiry as he sank into the chair that Tom Jenkins wheeled forward for
him. Cynthia had turned her back upon the company, and was again putting
on her little black hat. It was plain that both she and Enid had been
crying.

"You must have been very ill," said Enid, regarding him with
compassionate eyes.

"For a few days I believe that I was rather bad; but I am all right
now," said Hubert, taking refuge in conventionalities. "My kind nurse
has introduced herself to you perhaps?"

"We introduced ourselves to each other," said Enid; and then she walked
away from him to Cynthia. "Will you leave us together for a little
time?" she murmured. "You do not mind? I shall not be long; but I want
to make Hubert understand what I said to you just now."

She had drawn Cynthia outside the door as she spoke. The two looked at
each other again gravely, and yet with a kind of pleasure and
satisfaction--then they kissed each other. Cynthia ran down-stairs; Enid
re-entered the drawing-room and closed the door. Mrs. Jenkins had
appeared on the scene with a tea-tray, which she arranged on a small
table at Hubert's elbow; and, till she had gone, Enid did not speak. She
sat down in a low arm-chair and observed her cousin steadily. He was
certainly very much changed. His hair was turning gray on the temples;
his eyes were hollow and haggard; he was exceedingly thin. There was an
air of gloom and depression about him which Enid had not noticed before.

She gave him a cup of tea and took one herself before she would let him
speak of anything but commonplaces. He did not seem inclined to talk;
but, when she took away his cup, h