"If you think so," replied Virginia with shaking voice, "please don't let Mrs. Ferris come. I did not ask--you must not think I asked the doctor--for company or complained of loneliness. I am----" she could not go on. "Have I your word that if I allow you to go about as you like you will make no attempt to leave me?" "Would you take my word?" she cried vehemently; then checked herself, and seemed to hold herself quiet by an act of will. "The doctor told me that you ought not to be distressed, that perfect rest was necessary for you," said Gaunt, rising abruptly from his seat. "Don't upset yourself, I didn't mean to bully. I will take it for granted that you will do as I wish, now that you know what my wishes are. Good afternoon." She did not answer. She had turned her face inwards to the pillow, and her slight shoulders were shaking. He stood a moment, contemplating her in dark vexation. Then he went out of the room, annoyed with himself, but still more annoyed with her. His mind was chaotic. He had just been wondering what he could do with her--how deal with the preposterous situation he had himself created--and hardly had the thoughts formed themselves before he was found threatening her with penalties in case she should attempt to disembarrass him of her presence. Dimly he descried the reason of this apparent inconsistency. It was that he knew her to be spiritually free of him. He could not bear that she should be actually free as well. After all, he had married her. He had his rights. He was her husband. But, Oh, ye gods, what a child she was--how easily cowed, how shrinking and timid and all the other things that he hated! From the bottom of his heart he wished that he had never set eyes upon her. * * * * * The following morning the post-bag, when it was brought to him at breakfast time, contained two letters for Virginia. One was addressed in the unformed, sprawling hand which he knew to be Pansy's. The other was inscribed with a flowing, ornamental script which once had power to illuminate the world for him, and now produced in his fermenting mind the most curious mixture of rage, bitterness, and gratification. He had determined yesterday to abandon his cruel intention of overlooking his wife's correspondence. His perusal of Pansy's letter had been enough. This sight of his mother-in-law's writing, however, touched him upon the corrupt spot in his heart, and shook his resolution. He laid the letter down among his own, before Grover, who waited near, had seen the address. The letter from Pansy he handed to her as it was, and joyfully it was received by its lawful recipient when it arrived upstairs upon her breakfast tray, the sanctity of its seal inviolate. When he was alone, Gaunt leaned forward, his elbows propped upon the table, and held Mrs. Mynors' envelope in the steam of the spirit kettle which stood upon the silver tray.