"Ah! but his headaches have ceased," said Catherine. "He told me there had been no return of them since he came to town." "I am very glad," said Maud, "because--well, it can't be a good thing to get in the habit of taking that stuff, though while he was up in Scotland and the neuralgia was so bad he had to get relief somehow. But if his headaches have ceased, I suppose one need not be anxious any more." Catherine heard a certain hesitation in her voice, and saw the same in her face. "You are not telling me quite all," she said. "I think you had better. You are afraid of something more. If your fears are groundless, there is no harm done; if they have foundation, it is best for me to know. Of course I guess what it is." Maud put down her brush, and turned to her sister-in-law. "Yes; I expect you guess quite correctly. It is this: He has begun to take it for its own sake--for the sake of its effects. Coming up in the train he thought I was asleep, and I saw him--yes, I spied on him if you like--I saw him go to his bag, take out the bottle, and have a dose. He had no headache; he was never better. He wanted the effects of it. It was a big dose, too--double the ordinary one, I should say. He did not measure it. I think he did the same thing up in Scotland." Catherine got up, and looked out of the window in silence for awhile. "You did perfectly right to tell me, Maud. Thank you," she said. "But it is hell--damnation, you know. What do you advise?" "Get him to see a doctor." "He won't. I suggested it to-day. And one doesn't want to lose any time; the pace accelerates so quickly on that awful road. Poor Thurso! Of course it is desirable that I should appear to find out what you have told me for myself--find out, that is to say, that he is taking this drug." "You may say I told you, if necessary," said Maud. "What are you going to do?" "I can't make any plan yet. I must see." Catherine left the room, and went down the passage to her own. Outside her husband's dressing-room, next hers, was standing his valet, and a sudden thought occurred to her. "Is his lordship dressed, do you know?" she asked. "No, my lady. His lordship told me he would call me when he began," said the man. She went to the door, tapped, and entered. "Flynn told me you were not dressing yet," she said, "though both you and I will be late if we don't begin." "I waited till I heard you come to your room," he said. "What is it?" "Only I am afraid you must take in Alice Yardly and have Theodosia next you. I am sorry: it is the upper and nether millstones. But we'll change about to-morrow." Thurso was lying on his sofa, doing nothing, and with no book or paper near him; nor did he look as if he had been sleeping. His eyes were bright and alert. He looked radiantly happy and cheerful; it was not the same man who had frowned and started all the way down in the car.