He spoke with absolute conviction, almost with exultation; and the words went straight to Chris’s heart and stayed there.

“You do comfort me,” she said.

“I only tell you the truth,” he made answer, “as I see it.  We do not yet know the power of Love.  We only know that it is the greatest of all.  It is le bon Dieu in the world.  And we meet Him everywhere—­even in the heart of a dog.”

“I shall remember that,” she said.

Her hand still clung to his as they groped their way across the room.  At the door for a moment she stayed him.

“I shall never forget your goodness to me, Bertie, never—­never!” she said, very earnestly.

“Ah, bah!” he answered quickly.  “But we are—­pals!”

And with that he opened the door, almost as if impatient, and made her pass before him into the hall.

The lamplight dazzled Chris, and she stood for a moment uncertain.  Then, as her eyes became accustomed to the change, she discovered her husband, standing a few yards away, looking at her.

He did not speak, merely held out his hand to her; and she went to him with a vagrant feeling of reluctance.

He put his arm about her, looking gravely into her wan face; but she turned from his scrutiny and leaned her head against his shoulder with a piteous little murmur of protest.

“Do you mind if I go to bed, Trevor?” she said, after a moment.  “I—­I’m very tired, and I don’t want any dinner.”

“You must have something, dear,” he made answer, “but have it in bed by all means.  I will bring it up to you in half an hour.”

She made a slight movement which might have meant dissent, but which remained unexplained.  For a little she stood passive, leaning against him as though she lacked the energy to go, but at length she made a move.  Glancing round, she saw that Bertrand had departed.

“Where is Noel?” she asked.

“In his room.”

She looked up sharply, detecting a hint of grimness in his voice.  “Trevor”—­she halted a little—­“are you—­vexed with anybody?”

His face softened at her tone.  “Never mind now, dear,” he said.  “You are worn out.  Get to bed.”

She put her hand to her head with a weary gesture.  “But why—­why is Noel in his room?”

“Because I sent him there.”

“You!” She stared at him, fully roused from her lethargy.  “Trevor!  Why?”

“I will tell you tomorrow,” he said, frowning slightly.  “I can’t have you upset any more tonight.”

“But, Trevor—­”

“Chris, dear, go to bed,” he said firmly.  “If I don’t find you there in half an hour, I shall put you there myself.”

“Oh no!” she broke in.  “Please don’t come up.  I shall get on better alone.  And I have to say goodnight to Noel first.”

“I am sorry, dear,” he said, “but you can’t.  Noel is in disgrace, and I would rather you did not see him to-night.”