Why, indeed? Cicely now heard the whole story from her companion; and her shrewd mind very soon began to guess at reasons. She had always observed Bridget's complaisance towards her brother, and even towards herself--a clumsy complaisance which had never appealed at all either to her or him. And she had noticed many small traits and incidents that seemed to shew that Bridget had resented her sister's marriage, and felt bitterly that Nelly might have done far better for herself. Also that there was a strong taste for personal luxury in Bridget, which seemed entirely lacking in Nelly. 'She wanted Willy's money!'--thought Cicely--'and couldn't get it for herself. So when poor Sarratt disappeared, she saw a way of getting it through Nelly. Not a bad idea!--if you are to have ideas of that kind. But then, why behave like an idiot when Providence had done the thing for you?' That was really the puzzle. George Sarratt was dying. Why not let poor Nelly have her last weeks with him in peace, and then--in time--marry her safely and lawfully to Willy? But Cicely had again some inkling of Bridget's probable reply. She had not been intimate with Nelly for more than a year without realising that she was one of those creatures--so rare in our modern world--who do in truth live and die by their affections. The disappearance of her husband had very nearly killed her. In the first winter after he was finally reported as 'Missing--believed killed,' and when she had really abandoned hope, the slightest accident--a bad chill--an attack of childish illness--any further shock--might have slit the thin-spun life in a few days or weeks. The Torquay doctor had told Hester that she was on the brink of tuberculosis, and if she were exposed to infection would certainly develop it. Since then she had gained greatly in vitality and strength. If only Fate had left her alone! 'With happiness and Willy, she'd have been all right!' thought Cicely, who was daily accustomed to watch the effect of mind on body in her brother's hospital. But now, with this fresh and deeper tragedy before her--tearing at the poor little heart--crushing the life again out of the frail being--why, the prospects of a happy ending were decidedly less. The odious Bridget might after all have acted intelligibly, though abominably. As to the history of Sarratt's long disappearance, Cicely found that very little was known.