"Do you know, Ralph," she faltered presently, "I have a faint suspicion that you are annoyed about something. What is it? Be frank now and tell me." 

"Annoyed?" I laughed. "Not at all, dearest. Nervous and impatient, perhaps. You must make allowances for me. A doctor's life is full of professional worries. I've had a trying day at the hospital, and I suppose I'm quarrelsome--eh?" 

"No, not quarrelsome, but just inclined to be a little suspicious." 

"Suspicious? Of what?" 

Her woman's power of penetration to the innermost secrets of the heart was marvellous. 

"Of me?" 

"How absurd!" I exclaimed. "Why should I be suspicious--and of what?" 

"Well," she laughed, "I really don't know, only your manner is peculiar. Why not be frank with me, Ralph, dear, and tell me what it is that you don't like. Have I offended you?" 

"Not at all, darling," I hastened to assure her. "Why, you're the best little woman in the world. Offend me--how absurd!" 

"Then who has offended you?" 

I hesitated. When a woman really loves, a man can have but few secrets from her. Ethelwynn always read me like an open book. 

"I'm worried over a critical case," I said, in an endeavour to evade her question. 

"But your patients don't annoy you, surely," she exclaimed. "There is a distinction between annoyance and worry." 

I saw that she had detected my suspicion, and at once hastened to reassure her that she had my entire confidence. 

"If Mary finds her life a trifle dull with her husband it is surely no reason why I should be blamed for it," she said, in a tone of mild complaint. 

"No, you entirely misunderstand me," I said. "No blame whatever attaches to you. Your sister's actions are no affair of ours. It is merely a pity that she cannot see her error. With her husband lying ill she should at least remain at home." 

"She declares that she has suffered martyrdom for his sake long enough," my well-beloved said. "Perhaps she is right, for between ourselves the old gentleman is a terrible trial." 

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