connection with a nurses'
association, his wife had accidentally learned of Nurse Grey's summons
to Muktiarbad and had cleverly contrived to work things so as to go
herself, instead.

"If I had only done the right thing in the beginning, and severed the
tie, legally, things might have been very different today," was the
burden of his cry. Instead, in the recklessness of despair, he had cut
the ground from under his own feet, and by his desire for revenge,
destroyed any possibility of future happiness for himself. Passion for
the woman was dead. Her beauty revolted him; her character he loathed
and despised. "It is amazing to me," he wrote in deep contrition and
humility, "that such an egotistical, conscienceless blackguard as I,
should have been given the inestimable boon of your wonderful love!--to
be allowed to retain in my keeping such a pure and faithful heart! It is
my most treasured possession. My feeling for Honor Bright is my
religion. To the memory of her, Brian Dalton, one-time scoundrel, kneels
in worship."

* * * * *

When Mrs. Bright returned home from Meredith's bedside and found Honor
nerveless and prostrated with white cheeks and dark rings round her
eyes, she was convinced that it was high time her daughter was sent to
the hills.

"I told you so in March when the weather grew unbearable; and now, you,
too, have got a touch of the sun!" But Honor's cheek was cool and
symptoms of sun or heat stroke were lacking. "How do you feel?" the
anxious lady questioned. Being in ignorance of the nurse's identity and
having no clue to Honor's state, she was worried and at a loss.

"I am only feeling rather exhausted, Mother darling," said Honor
wearily. Since she had not taken her mother into her confidence while
she was happy, she felt she had no right to burden her with her sorrow.

"Shall I ask Captain Dalton to come and see you?"

"Not on any account!" Honor hastened to say.

"I know it is rather embarrassing when a doctor is an intimate
friend--and an unmarried man! Still, considering--" Mrs. Bright was
thinking of the "understanding" and wondering when it was going to
become something definite. However, Honor was not the girl to hector or
question on matters that concerned herself alone. The question of her
indisposition was more pressing than any. "Have you a headache?" she
asked anxiously.

Honor could truthfully say that her head ached. "When I have slept, it
will,