Scott raised his shoulders. "We were talking together. I can't tell you exactly what caused it. It came rather suddenly. Biddy and I brought her round almost immediately, and she declares that she will make the journey. She did not wish me to tell you of it, but I thought it better." "Of coarse." Sir Eustace's voice was short and stern; his face wore a heavy frown. "But something must have caused it. What were you talking about?" Scott hesitated for a second. "I can't tell you that, old fellow," he said then. Eustace uttered a brief laugh. "Too personal, eh? Well, how did it happen? Did she suddenly lose consciousness?" "She suddenly gasped, and said her heart had stopped. She fell across the table. I called to Biddy, and we lifted her and gave her brandy. That brought her to very quickly. I left her lying down in her room. But she says she feels much better, and she is very set upon leaving the arrangements for the journey unaltered." Scott spoke rather wearily. Dinah's heart went out to him in swift sympathy which she did not know how to express. "May I--could I--go to her?" she suggested, after a moment timidly. Scott turned to her instantly. "Please do! I know she would like to see you. We ought to be starting in another quarter of an hour. The sleigh will be here directly." "May I do as I like about--about telling her?" Dinah asked, pausing. Scott's eyes shone with a very kindly gleam. "Of course, I know you will not startle her. You always do her good." The words followed her as she turned away. How good he was to her! How full of understanding and human sympathy! Her heart throbbed with a warmth that filled her with an odd desire to weep. She wished that Eustace did not treat him quite so arrogantly. And then, looking back, she reproached herself for the thought; for Eustace had linked a hand in his arm, and she saw that they were walking together in complete accord. "But I will never--no, never--call him Stumpy!" she said to herself, as she passed into the hotel. She went up the stairs rapidly, and hastened to Isabel's room. That look she had caught in Scott's face--that stricken look--had doubtless been brought there by his sudden anxiety for his sister. That would fully account for it, she was sure. On the threshold of Isabel's room an overwhelming nervousness assailed her. How was she going to tell her of the wonderful event that had taken place in the last half-hour? On the other hand, how could she possibly suppress so tremendous a matter? And again, the disquieting question arose; could she be ill--really ill? Scott had looked so troubled--so unutterably sad. With an effort she summoned her courage, and softly knocked. Instantly a low voice answered her, bidding her enter. She opened the door and went in, feeling as though she were treading sacred ground. But Isabel's voice spoke again instantly, greeting her; and in a moment all her doubts, all her forebodings, were gone.