"Go down," he said, "at once, or--" She shrank from him for a moment as she saw his look; but her jealous rage mastered her fear, and she stepped farther into the room. Huish seemed undecided what to do; he glanced at Gertrude, then at the woman, and then back to see that the former was looking at him imploringly, as if asking him to end the scene. "Go back to bed," he said firmly; "you are ill!" and he laid his hand upon the woman's arm. "Worse in mind than in body!" she cried, starting away. "Girl," she continued passionately, "you look truthful and unspoiled; tell me who you are." "Oh yes!" said Gertrude quickly, as she advanced with extended hand, and a look of pity in her face. "I am Mrs Huish." The woman's lower jaw dropped, and a blank, stony look came into her eyes. "Married!" she said hoarsely. "Are you his wife--to-day?" "Oh no!" said Gertrude wonderingly; "for some time now. You are ill and delicate. Can I do anything for you?" "No, no--no, no! Don't touch me; I could not bear it. Tell me once more." "Here, enough of this!" cried Huish angrily. "Go down!" "Don't touch her," said Gertrude excitedly; and she interposed. "She is ill--very ill. I am Mrs John Huish," she repeated. "The woman he has wronged?" "No, no!" said Gertrude, beginning to tremble, as she thought of the scene upon the stairs; "but you are--" "That man's lawful wife, whom he now casts aside for some pretty baby face that takes his fancy." "It is not true!" cried Gertrude with spirit; "my husband is a gentleman and the soul of honour." "It is true! and that man is a liar--a cheat--a scoun--O God, I cannot bear it! Let me die!" The woman threw up her hands and reeled. In another instant she would have fallen, but Huish stepped forward, caught her in his arms, and bore her out of the room, carrying her down to the next floor, while Gertrude, as she heard his receding steps, sank into a chair, and gazed blankly before her. She started up though, as Huish returned with a smile upon his face, and closed and locked the door. "Poor thing!" he said lightly; "I am sorry she came up. Ill, you know. Her baby. Reason temporarily gone. She accuses everybody like that." "John," cried Gertrude, trembling, "cannot understand you to-night: you are so strange and unlike yourself. Is what that poor creature says true? Oh, I cannot bear to hear such words!" "True? is it likely?" he said, approaching her. "Why, are you not my little wife?" "Yes, yes!" cried Gertrude, shrinking from him; "but tell--" She stopped short, gazing at him wonderingly. Her hands went to her dilating eyes, and as the light of the lamp fell for the first time full upon him now, she uttered a cry of horror, her face became convulsed, and she ran to the door. "It is not--" she paused wildly. "Are you mad, too?" he cried, pursuing her and catching her wrists. "Yes--no--I don't know," she cried excitedly. "Don't touch me. I cannot bear it."