wonderful cures. But I will never allude to the subject again if it distresses you. It is certainly not for me to dictate to you as to the welfare of your brother.”

The flush of excitement had faded from Monica’s face. She turned it towards him with something of apology and appeal.

“Forgive me if I spoke too hastily,” she [91]said, with a little quiver in her voice which he thought infinitely pathetic, “but I have so few to love, and the thought of losing them is so very sad. And then Tom has so often frightened me about Arthur and taking him away; and I know that I understand him better than anybody else, though I am not a doctor, nor a man of science.”

[91]

He looked at her with grave sympathy.

“I think that is highly possible, Lady Monica. You may trust me to say or do nothing that could give you anxiety or pain.”

“Thank you,” answered Monica with unusual gentleness. “I do trust you.”

His heart thrilled with gladness at those simple words. They had almost reached the church now, and Monica paused at [92]the edge of the cliff, turning her gaze seawards, a strange, sad wistfulness upon her face.

[92]

Her companion watched her in silence.

“There will be a storm before long,” she said at last.

The air was curiously clear and still, and the sea the same; yet there was a sullen booming sound far below that sounded threatening and rather awful.

“You are weather-wise, Lady Monica?” he asked with a smile.

“I ought to be,” she answered, turning away at length with a long drawn breath. “I know our sea so well, so very well.”

And then she walked on and entered the church by her own little door, leaving Randolph musing alone without.

He, too, lunched with the Pendrills that [93]day. He had been over several times to see them since his arrival at Trevlyn, and had made his way in that house as successfully as he had done at the Castle.

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