"That is another matter. She is very nervous. I am going to her house, now, and probably she will come back to the Hall with me. I might perhaps tell her that you are here, but I think it would be likely to shock her very much." "Well, well, we will see about it," answered Mr. Booley. They reached the house and the squire ushered the detective into the study, begging him to wait for his return. It was a new complication, though it had seemed possible enough. But the position was not pleasant. To feel that there was a detective in the house waiting to carry off Goddard, so soon as he should be well enough to be moved, was about as disagreeable as anything well could be. The longer the squire thought of it, the more impossible and at the same time unnecessary it seemed to be to inform Mrs. Goddard of Booley's arrival. He hastened down the park, feeling that no time must be lost in bringing her to her husband's bedside. He found her waiting for him, and was struck by the calmness she displayed. To tell the truth the violence of her emotions had been wholly expended on the previous night and the reaction had brought an intense melancholy quiet, which almost frightened Mr. Juxon. The habit of bearing great anxiety had not been wholly forgotten, for the lesson had been well learned during those terrible days of her husband's trial, and it was as though his sudden return had revived in her the custom of silent suffering. She hardly spoke, but listened quietly to Mr. Juxon's account of what had happened. "You are not hurt?" she asked, almost incredulously. Her eyes rested on her friend's face with a wistful look. "No, I assure you, not in the least," he said. "But your poor husband is very ill--very ill indeed." "Tell me," said she quietly, "is he dead? Are you trying to break it to me?" "No--no indeed. He is alive--he may even recover. But that is very uncertain. It might be best to wait until the doctor has been again. I will come back and fetch you--" "Oh, no, I will go at once. I would like to walk. It will do me good." So the two set out without further words upon their errand. Mr. Juxon had purposely omitted to speak of Mr. Booley's arrival. It would be easy, he thought, to prevent them from meeting in the great house. "Do you know," said Mary Goddard, as they walked together, "it is very hard to wish that he may recover--" she stopped short. "Very hard," answered the squire. "His life must be one of misery, if he lives." "Of course you would send him back?" she asked nervously. "My dear friend, there is no other course open to me. Your own safety requires it."