But he soon got tired, and it is doubtful whether Madge was not more tired than he. When he waited long, feeling with those thin finger tips at the index, it was bad enough for her; but it was worse when he felt the card right almost immediately, and almost laughed with pleasure at his newly-acquired quickness--he, who used to be so quick! And all the time the certainty of the moment that was coming when he should learn all that had happened darkened her with an amazement of pity. What would he feel when he knew that? And what would she feel? And how, if that was very bad, would she have power to conceal it, so that he should believe, so that she could force him to believe that it was not there? Two mornings after Madge slept on very late; but before she came down she had been in to see Evelyn, and subsequently had a talk to the nurse, who told her that Dr. Inglis had already seen her husband, and that he intended to take the bandages off his eyes that day. The wounds had healed in a manner almost marvellous, and they would now be the better for the air and light. And though Madge as she went downstairs felt that only thankfulness ought to be in her heart, she felt that she carried some sort of death-warrant in her pocket. The post had just come in, and as she entered the breakfast-room, from which Lord Dover had already gone, but where his wife still waited for Madge, ready to make fresh tea on her entry, she found a letter by her plate directed in a handwriting that was very familiar to her. She wanted to open it at once, but instead she pushed it aside. "What a glorious morning, dear Madge," said Lady Dover. "Dr. Inglis has already made me his morning report. He has no further anxiety, I think, at all. I am so glad." She herself had a pile of letters, of which she had opened only about half, but abandoned them entirely to talk to Madge, and make her tea. But the sight of all those letters, somehow, diverted Madge's attention from her own, and a sudden thought struck her, which was new. "Lady Dover," she said abruptly, "I believe you have been putting all manner of visitors off because of poor Evelyn." Lady Dover looked up in gentle, clear-eyed acquiescence. "Why, my dear, it was most important he should be quite quiet," she said. Madge arrested the hand that was pouring out her tea. "Ah, you dear," she said, "and all these days I never thought of it, or thanked you." The spout of the teapot poured a clear amber stream on to the table-cloth. "And I have spilt the tea, too," said Madge. "But I do thank you, and--and I am frightened!" "There is nothing wrong?"