hour.

A few hours and it would all be over--and through those hours Maurice
slept.

The twilight was falling when he stirred, muttered some broken words, and
opened his eyes. He heard no sound, and thought it was early morning.

"Hermione!" he said, softly.

Then he lay still for a moment and remembered.

"By Jove! it must be long past time for dejeuner!" he thought.

He sprang up and put his head into the sitting-room.

"Hermione!" he called.

"Yes," she answered, from the terrace.

"What's the time?"

"Nearly dinner-time."

He burst out laughing.

"Didn't you think I was going to sleep forever?" he said.

"Almost," her voice said.

He wondered a little why she did not come to him, but only answered him
from a distance.

"I'll dress and be out in a moment," he called.

"All right!"

Now that Maurice was awake at last, Hermione's grief at the lost
afternoon became much more acute, but she was determined to conceal it.
She remained where she was just then because she had been startled by the
sound of her husband's voice, and was not sure of her power of
self-control. When, a few minutes later, he came out upon the terrace
with a half-amused, half-apologetic look on his face, she felt safer. She
resolved to waste no time, but to tell him at once.

"Maurice," she said, "while you've been sleeping I've been living very
fast and travelling very far."

"How, Hermione? What do you mean?" he asked, sitting down by the wall and
looking at her with eyes that still held shadows of sleep.

"Something's happened to-day that's--that's going to alter everything."

He looked astonished.

"Why, how grave you are! But what? What could happen here?"

"This came."

She gave him the doctor's telegram. He read it slowly aloud.

"Artois!" he said. "Poor fellow! And out there in Africa all alone!"

He stopped speaking, looked at her, then leaned forward, put his arm
round her shoulder, and kissed her gently.

"I'm awfully sorry for you, Hermione," he said. "Awfully sorry, I know
how you must be feeling. When did it come?"

"Some hours ago."

"And I've been sleeping! I feel a brute."

He kissed her again.

"Why didn't you wake me?"

"Just to share a grief? That would have been horrid of me, Maurice!"

He looked again at the telegram.

"Did you wire?" he asked.

"Yes."

"Of course. Perhaps to-morrow, or in a day or two, we shall have better
news, that he's turned the corner. He's a strong man, H