He wrinkled up his brow, and let his cheek down upon his hand, with his elbow in dangerous proximity to his coffee.

"I was dreaming of going up to Stonor's again last night. Good heavens!

Is it likely that I shall ever become like one of those poor fellows-- unhinged, doing all kinds of things involuntarily? There must be something wrong with me; only Stonor spoke as he did, like all doctors do, to take one's thoughts away from one's malady. It is so strange, that perhaps I ought not to think any more of my poor darling; only Stonor encouraged me so. It would be a sin against her to marry if I really am wrong. But am I? Let me think.

"Robson, for some reason, cut me dead yesterday; but then he is one of Lady Millet's intimates. Then Rock Anderson apologised for not paying me that money. What money? I remember no debt. It's softening of the brain, that's what it is--memory gradually going; and yet I think of Gertrude and dare--Well, the doctor said I was all right; he ought to know. He said it was only a lapse of memory now and then.

"But there are so many things which are so puzzling. Friends seem to be dropping away from me. Man after man with whom I used to be intimate cuts me dead.

"No, no, no!" he cried impatiently; "I will not think of it. And as to that woman who came to me and made me worry my brains, it must have been some town trick."

But the cloud hung over him still, various little matters connected with his daily life clinging together like snowflakes from that cloud, till the recollection of his position with regard to Gertrude came back, and her face shone through the darkness to dissipate the mental mist.

"Yes!" he cried, brightening up; "the doctor must be right. He encouraged me in my ideas; and my darling will keep away all these wretched morbid fancies. But what am I to do?

"Act!" he cried sharply; "act!--not sit down here like a morbid, dreamy fool, and let that old woman have her way in making two people wretched for life. I'll go to Captain Millet's and see him. Not so easy, though," he said, laughing. "Never mind; I'll go. He must have plenty of influence. Oh, of course; and if he fails, why, there's the doctor.

Hang it! he might interfere, and put in a certificate saying that it would be the death of the poor girl if she is forced into a wedding with that fellow. But the old man told me to--Oh, what a hesitating fool I am!"

Meanwhile, matters were progressing in no very pleasant way at the Millet's. Renee made no confidant of her mother, but clung to her sister, from whom Lady Millet heard a portion of the trouble that had fallen upon her child.

"There, I can't help it," said her ladyship. "I do everything I can for you children, and if matters go wrong through your own imprudence, you must put up with the consequences. There, there, it is a silly young married couple's piece of quarrelling, and they must make it up as fast as they can."

"But, mamma!" said Gertrude.

"Don't argue with me, Gertrude. Renee must have been imprudent, and she must take the consequences. She had no business to encourage Major Malpas to visit her; and I trust that this will be a warning to you when you are married."

"Mamma!"

"Oh yes, I understand you, Gertrude," said her ladyship; "but I know your obstinacy, and I maintain that it would be utter madness for you to see that man after your marriage."

"But, mamma, you would not think of pressing on that affair now Renee is in such trouble."

"What has that to do with it, child? What has Renee's trouble to do with your marriage? Lord Henry has been put off long enough. I wish you to accept him; and I am convinced that a word, even a look, would make him propose."

"Oh, mamma!"

"Gertrude, I insist! I know he likes you, and if he is to be kept back like this, a scheming woman will secure him for some creature or another. Why, it is nearly a month since he called, and no wonder, after your icy conduct! I shall take steps at once. Let me see, a dinner-party will be best. There, I'm going out; I'll resume the subject on my return."

"Oh, mamma, mamma!" cried Gertrude as soon as she was alone. "But I will not; I'd sooner die."

Lady Millet was put off from resuming the subject on her return, and during her absence Gertrude had relieved her troubled heart by writing a letter of no small importance to herself.

Next day she was driven to Chesham Place with Lady Millet, who left her there while her ladyship went to attend to some shopping.

"Not been back?" said Gertrude eagerly, as she gazed in her sister's pale face.

"No, Gertrude, not yet," replied Renee; "but he will come soon, I hope,"

she continued, with a sigh full of resignation; "I am waiting. And now about your troubles. Is this affair to take place?"

"So mamma says," replied Gertrude, with a bitter smile. "Like you, I am to have an establishment."

"Oh, Gertrude, sister!" whispered Renee, kissing her. "But it makes it less bitter, now that Mr Huish has proved to be--"

Gertrude laid her hand upon her lips.

"Hush, Renee!" she cried. "I do not know what you may have heard, and I will not listen to it. Neither will I sit and hear a word against Mr Huish."

"I will not speak against him, dear," said Renee sadly; and she gazed piteously in her sister's eyes.

"And you, Renee? My poor darling! your position gives me the heartache."

"I shall wait, Gertrude. Some day he will find out my innocence and return to ask my pardon. I can wait till then. You see, dear, that, like you, I have faith, and can abide my time."

In place of returning home, Gertrude persuaded her sister to accompany her to her uncle's, where Vidler admitted them both directly, and showed them up to the darkened drawing-room.

It was a curious change from the bright sunshine of the street to the gloom within; but it seemed to accord well with the sadness in the sisters' b.r.e.a.s.t.s, and they sat and talked to the old man, playing to him as well, till it drew near the time for them to return to their respective homes.

All this time the pale, almost ghostly-looking hand was playing about in the little opening, and indicating by its nervous action that something was pa.s.sing in the ordinarily calm mind of its owner.

"Renee, my child," he said at last, "I can hear that you are in trouble."

There was no reply for a few moments, and then she said softly: "Yes, dear uncle."

"I do not ask you for your confidence," he said, "for if it is some trouble between you and your husband it should be sacred. I dreaded this," he muttered to himself. "Gertrude, my child, I would not, if I could help it, do anything to encourage you to act in disobedience to your parents' wishes, but be careful how you enter on this proposed alliance. I like it not, I like it not."

Gertrude did not answer, only stole to the opening, and pressed her warm fresh lips to the cold white hand. Then the young people took their leave, and the yellow-looking house in Wimpole Street resumed its wonted aspect of gloom.

Volume 2, Chapter VII.

BROUGHT TO A DOUBLE HEAD.

"Ah, my dearest boy!" cried Lady Millet, an evening or two later; "I did not expect you."

"'Spose not," said d.i.c.k shortly; "but I've come, all the same."

"You want money, sir, I suppose; and I will not have papa worried."

"No, I don't want money. I've come up on particular business."

"Business! Great heavens, my dear child! what is the matter?"

"Well, I don't know yet. But, I say, is Gertrude going to marry John Huish?"

"Certainly not--impossible! I have other views for your sister."

"And what are they?"

"This is a subject I should discuss with your papa, Richard; but you are a man grown now, and I am sorry to say papa does not afford me the support I should like, so I will tell you in confidence. I believe Lord Henry Moorpark will propose directly."

"Do you? I don't."