Astra could not but admit that the prohibition was just. Mrs. Lyte had seemed very fragile and feeble, of late. Astra had urged that application to Doctor Remy which, it now appeared, her mother had made, but in regard to the results of which she had chosen to keep silence,--from a loving wish, probably, to save her daughter from unavailing anxiety. Astra's heart swelled at the thought. "Are you _sure_," she asked, "that there is no immediate danger?" "As sure as one can be, in such cases--_if_ she is kept quiet." "And is there any probability that the disease may be eventually cured?" "There is a possibility,--with the same indispensable condition." Doctor Remy waited for a moment, in order that Astra might be duly impressed with this answer; then, he asked with a kind of proud humility;-- "Have I justified myself, in this matter?" "Forgive me," said Astra, penitently. "Of course I never really distrusted your motives; I only fancied that my duty to my mother could not be affected by them." "You see," suggested Doctor Remy, "how easy it is to be misled by appearances, even with the best intentions. The faith, of which I used to dream, would never have fallen into that error." "I will try to have it, hereafter," said Astra. "And yet," returned Doctor Remy, "you will doubtless insist upon a further explanation of the reason why I do not wish our engagement to be known to the outside world." "Indeed, I shall not," returned Astra, glad of an opportunity of proving that she was neither so distrustful, nor so curious, as he believed. "Of course, the outside world must wait till mother is informed; she has the right to the first telling. If you have any other reason for keeping the matter secret, I do not seek to know it." Could Astra have seen the look of triumph in Doctor Remy's face, she would have been startled. But he only said, quietly,-- "Thank you for so much trust." And, after a moment, he added,--"As you say, it is your mother's right to know first. Of course, then, you will not indulge in any confidences to intimate friends." "Certainly not," said Astra, a little surprised. "Indeed, I have none,--except, perhaps, Carice Bergan." "I would not mention it, even to her," said the doctor. "I do not intend to," replied Astra, decidedly. "But I must go in; mother will miss me." II. THE FOUNDATIONS FAIL. Astra's light form being quickly lost behind the intervening foliage, Doctor Remy turned slowly and meditatively toward his office; which, inasmuch as it had been built for the use and behoof of the late Doctor Lyte, possessed its own door of convenient communication with the garden.