‘You grieve me more and more with each word you say, Hannah,’ replied her brother-in-law; ‘however, I shall see Henry for myself to-morrow. Come! Edie, we must make tracks for our hotel.’ ‘Won’t you wait for the carriage to take you back,’ asked Hannah anxiously, for she was distressed at not being able to show them more hospitality. ‘No, thanks, dear. We shall get home quicker by the Metropolitan. We shall see you again soon. Good-night!’ and, with his wife’s arm snugly tucked under his own, Captain Hindes walked off again. As soon as she was sure that they were gone, Hannah sat down and indulged in the luxury of ‘a good cry.’ It was seldom that she permitted her feelings to get the better of her, but this interview had upset her. The semi-deceit she had been compelled to practise--the determination of Captain Hindes to find out what was the matter with his brother, and the evident suspicion with which he had received her statements, all combined to make her fear that a crisis of some sort was at hand. She dreaded what her husband might do or say if his brother pressed him too hard for an explanation of the alteration in his demeanour and appearance. His brain was at times so muddled, even in the day-time, that he spoke more like a madman than a sane person, and if Arthur took it upon himself to consult medical men on Henry’s behalf, or to have him privately watched, what terrible _dénouement_ might not be the consequence. She wished heartily that her brother and sister-in-law had not returned home just at that particular moment, that they had given her time to coax her husband to leave England for a while, as he had seemed so well disposed to do, but wishing was futile. They were there, in their midst, and she must set all her wits to work to conceal the real state of affairs from them. She visited her husband’s bed-chamber at once, to find him sunk into a slumber, from which she could only rouse him to a semi-torpid condition. So she wisely let him sleep until the morning, when he was able to listen to her story, and conceive a hazy idea that his brother and his wife had paid The Old Hall a visit whilst he was asleep. When Captain Arthur Hindes walked into the office the following day, he found his brother had not yet arrived. Naturally he was well-known there, by Mr Bloxam and all the older employés of the firm, and he received a hearty welcome, for he was a general favourite. Arthur was taller and fairer than Henry--had a handsomer face and a neater figure--was possessed, moreover, of a bright, happy temperament, and had always a kind word or a jest on hand. ‘Not arrived yet?’ he exclaimed in answer to Bloxam’s intimation of the ‘governor’s’ absence, ‘and nearly half-past twelve! What makes him so late, Bloxam? He used to be called “the early bird” at one time.’