me again so completely the indefatigable worker of former
days, that she accused herself of injustice in ascribing to physical
causes the vague eye and tremulous hand which might merely have
betokened a passing access of nervous sensibility. Now, at any rate, he
had his nerves so well under control, and had shown such a grasp of the
case, and such marked executive capacity, that on the third day after
the accident Dr. Garford, withdrawing his own assistant, had left him in
control at Lynbrook.

At the same time Justine had taken up her attendance in the sick-room,
replacing one of the subordinate nurses who had been suddenly called
away. She had done this the more willingly because Bessy, who was now
conscious for the greater part of the time, had asked for her once or
twice, and had seemed easier when she was in the room. But she still
gave only occasional aid, relieving the other nurses when they dined or
rested, but keeping herself partly free in order to have an eye on the
household, and give a few hours daily to Cicely.

All this had become part of a system that already seemed as old as
memory. She could hardly recall what life had been before the
accident--the seven dreadful days seemed as long as the days of
creation. Every morning she rose to the same report--"no change"--and
every day passed without a word from Amherst. Minor news, of course, had
come: poor Mr. Langhope, at length overtaken at Wady Halfa, was
hastening back as fast as ship and rail could carry him; Mrs. Ansell,
anchored at Algiers with her invalid, cabled anxious enquiries; but
still no word from Amherst. The correspondent at Buenos Ayres had simply
cabled "Not here. Will enquire"--and since then, silence.

Justine had taken to sitting in a small room beyond Amherst's bedroom,
near enough to Bessy to be within call, yet accessible to the rest of
the household. The walls were hung with old prints, and with two or
three photographs of early Italian pictures; and in a low bookcase
Amherst had put the books he had brought from Hanaford--the English
poets, the Greek dramatists, some text-books of biology and kindred
subjects, and a few stray well-worn volumes: Lecky's European Morals,
Carlyle's translation of Wilhelm Meister, Seneca, Epictetus, a German
grammar, a pocket Bacon.

It was unlike any other room at Lynbrook--even through her benumbing
misery, Justine felt the relief of escaping there from the rest of the
great soulless house. Sometim