“On the contrary, I am going to cure myself—or rather, Tom and his scientific friends are going to cure me,” answered Arthur, panting a little with the exertion, but very gay and confident. “Do you know, Monica, that for the last three months I have been at Tom’s tender mercies, and you see what I can do at the end of that time? Randolph paid no end of money, I believe, to send down two big swells from London to overhaul me; and now—now what do you think is going to happen?” “What?” “The day after to-morrow I am going to start for Germany—for a place where there are mineral springs and things; and I am going to stay there for a year, with a doctor who has cured people worse than me. Randolph is going to pay—isn’t he just awfully good? And in a year, Monica, I shall come back to you well—cured! What do you think of that? Haven’t we kept our secret well? Why, Monica, don’t look like that! Aren’t you pleased to think that I shall not be always a cripple?” But Monica was too utterly astounded to be able to realise all at once what this meant. “Arthur, I don’t understand,” she said at length. “You seeing doctors—you going to Germany! Whose doing is it all?” “Whose? Randolph’s practically, I suppose, since he finds the money for it.” “Why was not I told?” “That was my doing. I felt that if you knew you would dissuade me. But you can’t now, for in two days I shall be gone!” “Was Randolph willing to keep a secret from me—about you?” asked Monica, slowly. “No, he didn’t like it. He wanted you to be told; but I wouldn’t have it, and he gave in. I wanted to tell you myself when everything was fixed. Can you believe I am really going?” “No, I can’t. Do you want to go, Arthur—to leave Trevlyn?” “I want to get well,” he answered, eagerly. “If you had been lying on your back for years, Monica, you would understand.” “I do understand,” answered Monica, clasping her hands. “Only—only——” “Oh! yes, I know all that. It won’t be pleasant. But I’d do more for a good chance of getting well. So now it’s all settled, and I’m off the day after to-morrow!” “You’ve not given me much time for my preparations.” Arthur laughed outright. “Oh, you’re not going—did you think you were? Why, you’re Lady Trevlyn now—a full-blown countess. It would be too absurd, your tying yourself to me. Besides”—with a touch of manly gravity and purpose—“I wouldn’t have you, Monica, not at any price. I can stand things myself, but I can’t stand the look in your eyes. Besides, you know, it would be absurd now—quite absurd. You’re married, you know, and that changes everything.” Monica’s face was hard to read. “I should have thought that, even married, I might have been allowed to see you placed safely in the hands of this new doctor, after having been almost your only nurse all these years.” He stretched out his hand and drew her towards him, making her kneel down beside him, so that he could gaze right into her face.