est and amuse him.

And then, without warning, came some days of grave anxiety, for the
advance which had been so steady seemed suddenly arrested, and Francis
lost as much ground in a day as he had gained in a week. It was hard
to account for it. The weather, which had been warm and sunny, had
changed, and heavy storms of rain and a close thundery atmosphere
prevailed. This might have affected the patient, or, did this relapse
mean that his condition had been one of superficial strength induced by
sheer power of will? The doctor resumed his usual ferocity of manner
and refused to be questioned. For hours he and Philippa sat beside the
bed, watching a feeble, flickering spark of life--so feeble that it
seemed that every moment it must be extinguished; but gradually--very
gradually--the distressing symptoms decreased, a little colour returned
to the face which had looked so lifeless, and again hope grew strong.

At last there came a day when the doctor pronounced himself satisfied
that, for the time at least, danger was over.

It was Francis himself who suggested a little later that Philippa
should, as he put it, take a day off. Days and nights of watchfulness
and unremitting care leave their mark even on the most robust, and
although the girl denied that she felt any fatigue, it was evident to
him that she was looking white and strained. The very idea that she
should in any way suffer through her devotion to him distressed him so
greatly that Philippa agreed, and it was arranged that she should spend
the whole day in the open air, and that on the following day the plan
should be reversed--she should spend it with him and the nurse should
take a holiday.

"Why don't you ride?" Francis asked. "It must be weeks since you have
been in the saddle. You, who spend half your days riding, of course
you must miss it."

She made some evasive reply and he did not urge her further, to her
relief; for she did not care particularly about riding, whereas it had
been more than a pastime--indeed almost a passion--with Philippa the
first.

The storms which had swept Bessmoor from end to end for many days in
succession had passed over, leaving behind them just a few dark clouds,
drifting in broken masses across a sky of deepest blue, and throwing
deep shadows here and there across the moor--ever-varying elusive
shadows which only accentuated the brilliancy of the sunshine where it
fell upon the warm colours of the ling, whic