Alas, she needed no answer to her question; her colour fled, her eyes brimmed with tears, nothing that she had heard had prepared her for the truth. "We have been enjoying our drive," said Sylvester nervously, "but I must not let him stay out till it gets chilly. Have you been here long, Miss Haredale?" "Only since yesterday. We are at Hotel--" She faltered; and Lucian said, with something of his old abruptness,-- "Never mind me. I am sorry I look so bad, it frightens you. But people soon get used to it." "I was taken by surprise," said Amethyst, with a great struggle for composure. "I hope you will soon look better." "My mother will call on Lady Haredale," said Lucian punctiliously, but with wistful eyes. Amethyst gave him her hand, as Sylvester made a decided movement, but, as he held it close for a moment, the contrast with the well-remembered grasp of his strong brown fingers broke her down completely, and she hurried away, half-blinded with tears. Lucian did not speak another word till the drive was over and he was back again on his couch. Then he whispered-- "Syl!" "Yes--what is it?" "Won't she come sometimes and let me see her? Tell her how it is with me. I should like it, so much. Just to look at her!" "I will tell her, and I am sure she will come. Rest now, and I will go and find her," said Sylvester, gently. "Yes, that's what I want. Tell her how the Jackson girls come to tea, and many people. And the mother will call. But _you_ tell her the truth." "Yes." "Just a few times more," said Lucian, as he watched his messenger go. Sylvester went with hurried steps, urged as much by his own feelings as by Lucian's words. He made his way down into the sunny road where he had left Amethyst, and soon overtook her walking fast along it, with little heed to the beauty of sea or sky. "I am grieved to have given you such a shock," he said, "but I was obliged to think first of him." "Oh, I knew he was ill, but he looks as if he was dying!" broke out Amethyst, with a husky voice. "Yes," said Sylvester, "that is the sad truth. Life is all over for him, he cannot recover. He wishes you to know it. But, if you will, come sometimes to Casa Remi, as others do, and let him see you. It will give him pleasure. Mrs Leigh thinks society good for him. If he could see the old friendliness restored, he would not fret so much over his past want of insight." "I thought that he believed himself to have been perfectly right." "Ah, he has learned many lessons--in a hard school, poor boy! But you will give him this great pleasure--for a little while?" "If Mrs Leigh wishes--it is for her to decide," said Amethyst, still a little stiffly; then with a sudden break down--"Oh, how he is altered!" "Yes, indeed." Sylvester was pale, he turned his troubled eyes upon her. "It is impossible, just now," he said, "to think of ourselves--of oneself I mean, of anything but of him."