"The patient is my affair," snapped the doctor.

What could he do? For an instant he was again tempted to tell Stuart-Smith the truth. He looked anxiously at the man. No, it was impossible. There was no loophole for escape. And after all, he reflected, if he had an opportunity of watching the girl, she might quite unconsciously by some act, word, or even by some subtle essence of her personality furnish him with a clue to her past. Every occupation leaves indelible marks, although it sometimes takes keen eyes to discern them. If the girl had been a seamstress, Cyril believed that he would be able by observing her closely to assure himself of the fact."Very well," he said aloud. "If you are willing to assume the responsibility, I will go to my wife at once. But I insist on your being present at our meeting."

"Certainly, if you wish it, but it is not at all necessary, I assure you," replied the doctor.

A moment later Cyril, blushing like a schoolgirl, found himself in a large, white-washed room. Before him on a narrow, iron bedstead lay his mysterious _protégée_. Cyril caught his breath. He had forgotten how beautiful she was. Her red lips were slightly parted and the colour ebbed and flowed in her transparent cheeks. Ignoring the doctor, her eager glance sought Cyril and for a minute the two young people gazed at each other in silence. How young, how innocent she looked! How could anyone doubt the candour of those star-like eyes, thought Cyril.

"Well, Mrs. Crichton," exclaimed Stuart-Smith, "I have brought you the husband you have been so undutiful as to forget. 'Love, honour, and obey, and above all remember,' I suggest as an amendment to the marriage vow."

"Nurse has been reading me the marriage service," said the girl, with a quaint mixture of pride and diffidence. "I know all about it now; I don't think I'll forget again."

"Of course not! And now that you have seen your husband, do you find that you remember him at all?"

"Yes, a little. I know that I have seen you before," she answered, addressing Cyril.

"I gather from your manner that you don't exactly dislike him, do you?" asked the doctor with an attempt at levity. "Your husband is so modest that he is afraid to remain in your presence till you have reassured him on this point."

"I love him very much," was her astounding answer.

Cyril's heart gave a bound. Did she 

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