white lips, and the affected smile, as who should
say, "Even in this ruin and decay comes the
old story! Go on," he said, languidly.

He would have liked the particulars, just as
he would be presently feeling a convalescent's
appetite for a little chicken. But Young Brett,
a little frightened at what he had done, would
tell no more.

CHAPTER XI. A SPLENDID DEPARTURE.

WHEN the happy change was known, there
was great joy. Hanbury was silent and grateful.
A weight was off his mind. The doctor came
early, and lifted it off finally, by announcing that
he could not have wished him to be doing one
particle better— which seemed a grudging sort of
limitation to favourable wishes. But there was
another trouble come into Hanbury's breast
instead of the capital anxiety.

Still it was found that "we could scarcely move
him to-day, my dear madam— scarcely!" The
generic doctor was playing the piano softly and
nimbly on his lips with his fingers. "I don't
know but that it would be risky, too risky; we
might lose all we have gained. N—o—o," he con-
tinued, as if the minutes of a council held inside
him somewhere had just been brought to him,
and he had to give his casting voice, " I don't
think it would do. I would not recommend it."

Mrs. Manuel had all a housewife's terror of a
residence of many weeks, perhaps; but, relieved
from that apprehension, she rather liked the
excitement. A couple of days more, and Fermor
began to mend. Another day, and he was to be
moved away to fresh, airy rooms, upon a hill,
taken specially by Major Carter, who had proved
himself through all the crisis one of the most
collected, efficient men of business that could be
conceived— so practical, so delicate, so friendly,
and, above all, making his good offices more felt
than the doer of them. The Manuel family
actually came to look on him as an old friend.
Hanbury, as the danger receded into the distance,
passed from deep gloom, and even despair, into
spasmodic delight and thankfulness: but from
this stage again sunk gradually back into
uneasy gloom and distrust. He came and went
restlessly. He looked from face to face doubtfully.
Since that night when Violet had been surprised
at Fermor's bedside, she had recovered some of
her old manner towards him; but this might
have been to deprecate misconstruction, or even
displeasure, and to secure silence. The sense of
common danger had made such little
misconstruction appear almost trifling. But now it
began to be magnified— to Hanbury, at least—
every hour.

It came to noon of the day of the removal,
and a carriage, hired again by Major Carter,
waited at the door. The invalid— the dull,
bruised, confused Fermor —  had been gradually
fading out, like a dissolving view, and, in his
place, were coming back the harder lines of the
older sleepy-eyed officer who had dawdled into
the saddle in the mauve jacket not many days
before. In a fortnight he would be well, or
convalescent, and lounging about in an invalid's
demi-toilette. Now he looked pale and delicate
— almost interesting, as it appeared to the
maid-servants. ("Lovely," one thought him.)
As he was lifting himself from his sofa, Hanbury
came in, with distress and doubt again seen on
his forehead.

"O," said he, "so you are going, and I do hope
you will get quite well. And I am sure I never
shall forgive myself, and I know you will
believe me when I say, solemnly and sincerely,
and from my soul, that I never intended it—
never! never!"

Fermor smiled his old smile for the first time
since the accident. It had not been damaged.

"O, of course," he said; "who supposes it?
Such an idea! It never occurred to me."

"O, I am so glad," said Hanbury, fervently.
"I knew you would stand to me. And now,
would you mind— but this is flurrying you, and
we weren't to agitate you —"

"Weren't you?" said Fermor, coldly. "We
should have thought of that a little earlier.
Doesn't that strike you? But we may as well
now finish, please, as you have got so far."

"I didn't mean— I did not, indeed. But O,
would you mind just saying it over again to
them?"

"Saying what, and to whom? Pray speak out.
I really don't follow you."

"Why, you see," said the other, in fervent
confidence, "it is most unfortunate— but she, the
second one, has taken up some notion that it
was done on purpose, and I must say it looked
ugly; but, upon my soul, as I stand here, and if I
were to go to my grave to-morrow——"

"Really you are fatiguing yourself," said
Fermor, wearily, "and fatiguing me. I have told
you what I thought already."

"Ah, true! yes!" said the other, a little
vaguely, "so you did. But I want you, as you
are going away, and may not see them again for
long——"

Fermor smiled dubiously.

"You would do me such a service by telling
them so."

"What," said Fermor, "that I am going
away?"

"No, but about the race. The fact is, we are
gone much further than you suppose. It is
virtually settled, or understood, and but for this
unfortunate idea—— Indeed, if I could be capable
of such an act, she is not to be blamed; so it is
natural, you see."

"I see," said Fermor, "I see; it would quite
account for it. Very well. Would you help me
down, please, for I am as weak as a child."

He really was, and moved very slowly, step
by step, on strong John Hanbury's arm. He
reached the hall quite spent, and sank down
upon a sofa. Wine had to be fetched hastily for
him; in fact he had nearly fainted. The women
were all full of sympathy. The maid who thought
him "lovely" was looking on privately.