"I said I should not run in debt. I have no more money to spend on furniture at present. You don't really care for me, Hilda, or you would never speak as you do. But, once for all, I will not be drawn into a path which simply means ruin for the sake of any woman, and for the ridiculous fancies of any child. I will buy no furniture until I can pay for it. That ends the matter, my dear. If you are determined to stay at the Rectory for the summer, they will all, I am sure, be charmed to have you, and I will try and run down as often as I can. I need not say that I think you are making a most grave mistake, but a willful woman must e'en have her way, I suppose. Ah, and here comes the Rector, he has just returned from evening service." Quentyns went toward the door of the conservatory, which he flung open. Mr. Merton was just entering his drawing room. "One moment, Jasper--one moment," said Hilda; she rushed after her husband, her face was like death, her eyes were blazing with passion. "Your cruel words make anything possible," she said. "I made two vows before God, and I will keep them both. There, this was costly, I presume. You spent money on it--sell it again, and buy the furniture that you will not go in debt for." She thrust her engagement ring into Quentyns' hand and rushed away. CHAPTER XIII. JUDY'S ROOM. An ear that waits to catch A hand upon the latch. --DORA GREENWELL. "Here is a letter from Jasper, Hilda darling," said Aunt Marjorie, coming into Judy's bedroom two or three days after the events mentioned in the last chapter. "I know the hand-writing, dear. How strong and manly it looks. I do love a manly hand, don't you?" Hilda did not reply. She rose from her seat by Judy's side, and taking her husband's letter, walked to the window, and, standing with her back to the light, opened it eagerly. Her face was a little pale and worn, and her eyes had tired lines under them. No one had noticed any change in her, however. Judy was fast recovering--each day her spirits rose, her appetite improved, her strength grew greater. She was to be taken into Hilda's old boudoir to-day, and Babs was importantly moving the beloved china animals, arranging flowers, and getting the room ready for the great event. Aunt Marjorie, after her usual fashion, fussed over Judy while Hilda read her letter. It was brief, but somehow it gave the young wife unexpected hope and pleasure: "MY DEAREST WIFE: "Pray forgive me for not writing sooner, but I have been exceedingly busy since I returned to town, and have dined each night with Rivers at his club. I send a hasty line now to say that you can bring Judy back to Philippa Terrace whenever she is strong enough to be moved, as I have given Shoolbred full directions with regard to furnishing the spare room, and have just had a letter from him to say the goods will be delivered to-day.