Mrs. Denbigh felt and looked surprised, but
did not know what to say, and Isott went on
rapidly: "I be a foolish old 'oman like enough,
but sure I am he han't never been the same since
that there strange gentleman came here the
night afore you and he was married. What!
he never told ye, eh?" she added, quickly,
seeing her mistress's bewildered looks.

"I do not think he ever did," said Mrs.
Denbigh, collecting all her soft dignity, "so,
Isott, don't you tell me either, for I should not
like to hear it at all, unless I hear it from him."

"Lor' bless ye, Mrs. Denbigh, I han't a got
nothing to tell ye. 'Twas only as I were up
late, over in my cottage there, ironing out
Jonathan's shirt, and I see'd a light in the
surgery parlour, and I looked across and see'd
he and a strange man a standing between the
light and the window talking. There, my dear,
that be all I do assure ye."

"Well, that is not much certainly. What
makes you tell me of it? I don't understand."

"Strangers be scarce in Sedgbrook," said
Isott, bluntly "and strangers like that too, with
a lot of nasty hair stuff all about his mouth, and
chin, and the hair o' his head Lord knows how
long, and his face all one as the colour of that
there brown table-cover. Not as I saw much
of 'un, 'twere master as I did look at, and as
sure as you're alive, my dear, he'd brought him
some bad news or other; for master'd got a
look on his face as I never seed there afore—
though many and many's the time I've seen it
there since."

Mrs. Denbigh felt uncomfortable. Still she
felt that to discuss Philip's affairs with a servant,
even so old and tried a servant as Isott, was
not seemly, and, rather reproaching herself for
having listened so far, she began,

"Well, Isott, when Mr. Denbigh is well, I
will ask him about it, you may be sure."

"Do ye, my dear, do ye," said Isott,
interrupting her eagerly. "Now that be the very
reason why I've a telled ye all this. Suppose
master have a got into debts with this here new
furnishing, or suppose there be any trouble as
he've a got into afore he was a courting of you.
Lord bless ye, young men will be young men!
Why, it's only natural as he shouldn't like to
tell ye, and nothing 'll ever put it out of my
mind as that there queer, furrin looking chap
were either a bullying him for money, or trying
for to break off his marriage wi' you, or sum'at
o' that. So now, my dear, do ye try and make
'un tell ye about it ; for 'tis a nasty tiresome feel
for a man to have sum'at as he's bound to keep
from his missus. Hark! He be a waking."

He had indeed awakened with a great start, and
Elsie, going softly to his side, found him sitting
up in bed, and could hear him repeating under
his breath, very rapidly, the words: "Fear not
them that kill the body—that kill the body—
but fear Him that can cast both body and soul
into hell."

She was overpowered with horror and alarm;
but, in another moment, he came to himself,
and said in his natural voice, as he sank back
on the pillow: "Elsie, how come you to be up
at this hour?"

"You have not been well," she answered,
keeping her voice steady by an effort; but,
dimly as the night light was burning, her
white looks did not escape his notice, and the
next question was in the sharp anxious voice
which she knew so well.

"What have I been saying to make you look
like that?"

"Nothing, dearest. I think some texts from
the Bible were running in your head, nothing
more."

"Nothing more, really?" He held her
hand tightly across his burning forehead, while
he seemed to collect his thoughts. "Elsie," he
resumed, in a calmer tone, "listen to me. I believe
this headache and feverishness are nothing
but the effect of work and worry; still, it may
be the fever. If it should be, you must make
me one promise. Let Isott nurse me, and let
no one else enter the room, and don't come
near me yourself. Promise!"

"I cannot, indeed. How can you ask me?"
she cried, much hurt. "Would not you despise
any wife who could make or keep such a
promise?"

"Promise!" he repeated. "Elsie, you are
driving me into a fever; you are driving me
mad by refusing; you don't know what you
do. Promise!"

With a firm conviction that he was already
delirious, she gave the required promise, trusting
that she was not very wicked in doing so,
without meaning to keep it.

"But I hope you will be better to-morrow,"
she said, as cheerfully as she could. "Isott
thinks you are only knocked up by all you have
lately done."

"It is my own belief," he said, and still holding
her hand clasped in his, he soon fell into
another sleep: a less uneasy one this time,
though still he moaned and muttered. And at
every startled waking, came the question :

"What have I been saying?"

Towards morning he grew quieter, and Elsie
noticed, thankfully, that his forehead and hands
were cooler, and his face more like itself. She
stole to the window, and stepped behind the
curtain to look at the dawn, which was
beginning to break; and as she leaned her head
against the glass, her thoughts were busy with
Isott's suggestion. It comforted her to think
that some old debt or boyish scrape was at
the bottom of her husband's strange words
and ways. That, she thought, would account
for everything. His uneven spirits, his suspicious
temper, his jealous dread of what she
might hear or see, would all be quite natural
if he were keeping some secret from her. Her
eyes filled with happy hopeful tears, as she
pictured herself winning from him his full
confidence, and giving him in return the heart-felt
assurance, that no extravagance, or folly, or
boyish error could in the least diminish her love,
or lessen her respect, for him.

"When he is well," she thought, "I will ask