Enid shrank back and blushed with shame at the prospect before her. It was all very well for Maurice to say that she must not sacrifice herself; but was it not a woman's duty to sacrifice herself for the good of others? She said so to Maurice; and his answer was very ready. "For the good of others? But do you think it is for Hubert's good to marry a woman who does not love him, and especially if it is a woman whom he does not love?" "Ah, if I could only be sure of that!" sighed Enid. She was not long left in doubt. The General could not keep a secret; and, as soon as he and his wife returned to Beechfield, Enid felt that something was wrong--something which concerned herself. Flossy was very quiet; she eyed Enid strangely once or twice, but she did not tell her about the events of the past week. It was the General who sighed over her, petted her, kissed her at unusual times, and looked at her with an air of pity that the girl found almost intolerable. After three or four days of it, she broke through her usual rule of reserve, and asked Flossy what the General meant. "You had better ask him," said Mrs. Vane, arching her delicate brows. "I have asked him, and he will not tell me." "I suppose it is simply that Hubert is ill. He thinks probably that you are distracted by anxiety about him." Enid colored guiltily. "But we have good accounts of him," she said, as if explaining away her own apparent indifference; "he is going on as well as we can expect. And I suppose you would be with him if he were dangerously ill?" "I am not sure of that," said Flossy rather drily; but she would say no more. It was after breakfast one morning that Enid insisted upon being satisfied. She and the General had, as usual, breakfasted together, and a letter had just been received from the Doctor in attendance on Hubert, over which the General coughed, fidgeted, sighed, and was evidently so much disturbed that Enid's attention was roused to the uttermost. For the earlier part of the meal she had been sitting with her hands clasped before her, not attempting to touch the food upon her plate. She had no appetite; she had passed a bad night, and was little inclined to talk. But the General's movements and gestures excited her curiosity. "Have you had bad news, uncle Richard?" "No, no, my dear! He's going on very well--very well indeed." "You mean Hubert?" "Yes--yes, of course! Whom else should I mean? You needn't be alarmed about him at all; he'll soon be about again." There was a tone of mingled vexation and perplexity in the General's voice. "Is he conscious now?" Enid asked eagerly. "Well, no--not exactly--light-headed a little, I suppose. At least----" "Who has written, uncle Richard? Can I see the letter?" "No, no, no! Not for you to read, my dear! It's from the doctor--nothing much--nothing for you to see." Enid was silent for a few minutes; then she spoke with sudden determination.