itants of the cottage were left (in the absence of the
cook) to the tough mercies of a neighbouring restaurant. First and
foremost among the many good deeds by which the conduct of women claims
the gratitude of the other sex, is surely the manner in which they let
an unfortunate man master them, without an unworthy suspicion of that
circumstance to trouble the charitable serenity of their minds.

Carefully on the look-out for any discoveries which might enlighten
her, Fanny noticed with ever-increasing interest the effect which the
harmless Dane seemed to produce on my lord and the doctor.

Every morning, after breakfast, Lord Harry presented himself in the
bedroom. Every morning, his courteous interest in his guest expressed
itself mechanically in the same form of words:

"Mr. Oxbye, how do you find yourself to-day?"

Sometimes the answer would be: "Gracious lord, I am suffering pain."
Sometimes it was: "Dear and admirable patron, I feel as if I might get
well again." On either occasion, Lord Harry listened without looking at
Mr. Oxbye--said he was sorry to hear a bad account or glad to hear a
good account, without looking at Mr. Oxbye--made a remark on the
weather, and took his leave, without looking at Mr. Oxbye. Nothing
could be more plain than that his polite inquiries (once a day) were
unwillingly made, and that it was always a relief to him to get out of
the room. So strongly was Fanny's curiosity excited by this strange
behaviour, that she ventured one day to speak to her master.

"I am afraid, my lord, you are not hopeful of Mr. Oxbye's recovering?"

"Mind your own business," was the savage answer that she received.

Fanny never again took the liberty of speaking to him; but she watched
him more closely than ever. He was perpetually restless. Now he
wandered from one room to another, and walked round and round the
garden, smoking incessantly. Now he went out riding, or took the
railway to Paris and disappeared for the day. On the rare occasions
when he was in a state of repose, he always appeared to have taken
refuge in his wife's room; Fanny's keyhole-observation discovered him,
thinking miserably, seated in his wife's chair. It seemed to be
possible that he was fretting after Lady Harry. But what did his
conduct to Mr. Oxbye mean? What was the motive which made him persist,
without an attempt at concealment, in keeping out of Mr. Vimpany's way?
And, treated in this rude manner, how was it that his wicke