“She was the daughter of a once wealthy Californian whom reverses had impoverished,” he invariably told them.  “She was finely educated and fitted, both by nature and culture, to shine in any circle.”

“By whom were you married, William?” his mother asked, having at last deigned to show some interest in the circumstance.

“By the Rev. Dr. Thornton, an Episcopalian clergyman

“Of San Francisco?”

“No, of Virginia City;” and Sir William smiled that she was not familiar enough with the geographical location of the place to know that it was not in California at all.

“Oh, then you were not married in San Francisco?” interrupted Lady Linton, looking up eagerly, and hoping now to get something definite regarding that outlandish place in Nevada.

“No,” he replied, not thinking it necessary to enter into particulars, and leaving them to infer what they chose.

Her ladyship was baffled again, not daring to press him further lest he should suspect that she had been tampering with his papers.

But she tried to console herself with the thought that she would soon know all there was to be known; then what use she might make of her knowledge remained to be seen.

Lady Heath was improving, but still far from being out of danger, and could not endure the least confusion.

Sir William was very restless, and anxious to get back to his dear ones in America; but Sir Herbert Randall was opposed to his going.

“It would be fatal, my dear sir,” he asserted; “the excitement of your departure and the separation would undoubtedly bring on another shock from which her ladyship could not possibly rally, even if it did not kill her outright.  Haven’t you done roving enough yet?” the physician concluded, regarding the young man with some surprise.

“But I’ve left——­” Sir William began, when he was interrupted by a startled cry from Lady Linton, who was in the room, as she carelessly upset a vase of flowers on the table beside her.

“How awkward of me!” she exclaimed, flushing a deep crimson; “won’t you please ring the bell, William for some one to come and clean up this mess?”

He went to the opposite side of the room to do her bidding, and she took the occasion to inform Sir Herbert in a low tone, that her brother had left some unfinished business in America, which he was anxious to have settled.

“I’m sorry,” replied the physician, “but it will have to remain unsettled for a while longer, if he has a proper regard for his mother’s health.”

Of course the great doctor’s verdict was decisive, and Sir William was forced to curb his impatience as best he could.  He would not allow himself to do anything that would endanger his mother’s life, and yet his heart was yearning for his wife and for the little one whom he had never seen.

“Have patience a little longer, my darling,” he wrote Virgie that evening; I will come just as soon as it will do for me to leave home.  My heart longs for you every hour in the day; life seems almost a blank without you, and I find it difficult to employ myself about anything.  If you were stronger, and our little one was older, I would send some trusty messenger for you, and another eight days would find you in our beautiful home.  But I fear such a proceeding would be hardly wise at present.