On the other hand, my feelings of humanity are appealed to by Mr. Derringham’s weakness, and by the very poor chance he will have of escaping M. E. when she begins her attack during his convalescence.  I have felt more easy in conscience hitherto because I have merely stood aside, not aided the adversary, but now there is a parting of the ways and I am greatly disturbed.  I like Mr. Derringham very much, he has always treated me with courteous consideration not invariably shown to me by M. E.’s guests; and I cannot help being sorry for him, if—­which I fear is almost a certainty—­she will secure him in the end.

Then the letter ended.

Arabella was much worried.  However, she felt she might remain neutral so far as this, that, when Mrs. Cricklander indulged in endless speculations as to why John Derringham should have been trying to cross that difficult and dangerous haw-haw, she gave no hint that his destination could have been other than the Professor’s little house.  She did swerve sufficiently to the other side to remark that to cross the haw-haw would save at least a mile by the road if one were in a hurry.  And then her loyalty caused her to repeat, with extra care, to John Derringham in a whisper the fib which Mrs. Cricklander wished—­namely, that she, the fair Cecilia, was there ready to come to him and sit up with him, and do anything in the world for him, and was only prevented by the doctor’s strict orders, fearing the slightest excitement for the patient—­and that these orders caused her great grief.

John Derringham’s eyes looked grateful, but he did not speak.

His head ached so terribly and his body was wracked with pain, while his ankle, not having been set for twenty-four hours, had swollen so that it rendered its proper setting a very difficult matter, and caused him unspeakable suffering.  Sir Benjamin Grant had to come down to Wendover twice again before things looked in more hopeful state.

And what agonizing thoughts coursed through his poor feverish brain—­until through sheer weakness there would be hours when he was numb.

What could Halcyone have thought waiting for him all that day! and now she, of course, must have heard of his accident and there was no sign or word.

Or was there—­and were those cruel doctors not giving him the message?  The day came—­the Wednesday after Arabella had sent her letter to her mother—­when he was strong enough to speak.  He waited for the moment when Miss Clinker always arrived with Mrs. Cricklander’s bunch of flowers and morning greeting—­and then, while the nurse went from the room for a second, he whispered with dry lips: 

“Will you do me a kindness?” And Arabella’s brown eyes gleamed softly behind her glasses.  “Let Miss Halcyone La Sarthe know how I am—­she would come and meet you any day at Mr. Carlyon’s—­” then he stopped, disturbed by the blank look in Miss Clinker’s face.

“What is it?” he gasped, and Arabella saw that pale as he had been, with his poor head all bandaged, he grew still more pale—­and she realized how terribly weak he must be, and how carefully she must calculate what she could reply.