pass," she said more gently. "You will be better in a day or
two, when everything is settled."

"Yes--when everything is settled. But meanwhile, my dear, perhaps it
would be better, if you should notice anything strange in my behaviour,
like my laughing in this absurd way, for instance, just to look at me
without saying anything--you understand--it will recall me to myself. I
am convinced that it is only absence of mind, brought on by great
anxiety. But people are spiteful, you know, and somebody might think
that I was losing my mind."

"Yes," she answered gravely. "If you laugh in that way, without any
reason, somebody might think so. I will try and call your attention to
it, if I can."

"Thank you," said Macomer, with his unpleasant smile. "I think I will go
and lie down now, for I feel tired."

He turned from her, and made a few steps towards the door. He did not
walk like a man tired, for he held himself as erect as ever, with his
head thrown back, and his narrow shoulders high and square.
Nevertheless, Matilde was anxious.

"You do not feel ill, do you?" she asked, before he had reached the
door.

He stopped, half turning back.

"No--oh, no! I do not feel ill. Pray do not be anxious, my dear. I will
take a little aconite for my heart, and then I will lie down for an hour
or two."

"I did not know that you had been converted to homoeopathy," said
Matilde, indifferently. "But, of course, if it does you good, take the
aconite, by all means."

"I do not take it in homoeopathic doses," answered Gregorio. "It is the
tincture, and I sometimes take as much as thirty or forty drops of it in
water. Of course, that would be too much for a person not used to taking
it. But it is a very good medicine. Indeed, I should advise you to take
it, too, if you ever have any trouble with your heart."

"How does it affect one?" asked Matilde, turning her face from him, and
speaking indifferently.

"It lowers the action of the heart. Of course, one has to be careful. I
suppose that one or two hundred drops would stop the heart altogether,
but a little of it is excellent for palpitations. Do you suffer from
them? Should you like some? I have a large supply, for I always use it.
I can give you a small bottle, if you like."

"No," answered Matilde, still looking away from him, towards the
photographs on the mantelpiece. "I am afraid of those things. They get
into the system, as arsenic does, and mercury, and such things."