name, sir, what are you
doing here, while a wife who adores you is dying from your--I do not
wish to be rude, sir, but let me say at least--neglect?"

Elsley looked at him still askance, puzzled, inquiring. Suddenly his
great beautiful eyes opened to preternatural wideness, as if trying to
grasp a new thought. He started, shifted his feet to and fro, his arms
straight down by his sides, his fingers clutching after something. Then
he looked up hurriedly again at Campbell; and Thurnall looked at him
also; and his face was as the face of an angel.

"Miserable ass!" thought Tom, "if he don't see innocence in that man's
countenance, he wouldn't see it in his own child's."

Elsley suddenly turned his back to them, and thrust his hand into his
bosom. Now was Tom's turn.

In a moment he had vaulted over the table, and seized Elsley's wrist,
ere he could draw the second pistol.

"No, my dear Jack," whispered he quietly, "once is enough in a day!"

"Not for him, Tom, for myself!" moaned Elsley.

"For neither, dear lad! Let bygones be bygones, and do you be a new man,
and go home to Mrs. Vavasour."

"Never, never, never, never, never, never!" shrieked Elsley like a baby,
every word increasing in intensity, till the whole house rang; and then
threw himself into the crazy chair, and dashed his head between his
hands upon the table.

"This is a case for me, Major Campbell. I think you had better go now."

"You will not leave him?"

"No, sir. It is a very curious psychological study, and he is a Whitbury
man."

Campbell knew quite enough of the would-be cynical doctor, to understand
what all that meant. He came up to Elsley.

"Mr. Vavasour, I am going to the war, from which I expect never to
return. If you believe me, give me your hand before I go."

Elsley, without lifting his head, beat on the table with his hand.

"I wish to die at peace with you and all the world. I am innocent in
word, in thought. I shall not insult another person by saying that she
is so. If you believe me, give me your hand."

Elsley stretched his hand, his head still buried. Campbell took it, and
went silently downstairs.

"Is he gone?" moaned he, after a while.

"Yes."

"Does she--does she care for him?"

"Good heavens! How did you ever dream such an absurdity?"

Elsley only beat upon the table.

"She has been ill?"

"Is ill. She has lost her child."

"Which?" shrieked Elsley.

"A boy whom she should have had."

Elsley only