She waved it away, briefly saying she could not touch it: she could not eat. She waved him away, telling him to go to his dinner. Mr. Lake simply put the plate down again, and stood near her. "I must go home. I shall die if I stay here." "Clara, I _promise_ that you shall go. What more can I say? The house is sufficiently habitable now; there's nothing to detain us. Settle it yourself with the doctor. If he says you may travel tomorrow, so be it." She closed her eyes--a sign that the contest was over. Mr. Lake carried the plate of fowl back to the dining-room, not feeling altogether upon the best terms with himself. For the first time he was realizing the fact that his wife's full recovery might be a more precarious affair than he had suspected. "I knew she'd not touch it," said Mrs. Chester; "though I think she might eat it if she would." "Surely she is not sulky!" spoke Lady Ellis, in an undertone, to Mr. Lake, turning her brilliant and fascinating eyes upon him, as he sat down in his place beside her. He was not quite bad. He cared for his wife probably as much as he had ever done, although he had become enthralled by another, according to his light and unsteady nature. A haughty flush darkened his brow, and he pointedly turned from Lady Ellis without answering. "It is the breast of the fowl wasted," cried thrifty Mrs. Chester, in her vexation. It was not wasted. Mr. Lake took it upon his own plate, and made his dinner off it, never speaking a word all the while to anybody. What of that? With her wiles and her sweet glances, my lady won him round again to good-humour; and before the meal was over he was as much her own as ever. But when the dessert was put on the table--consisting of a dish of apples and another of nuts--Mr. Lake left them to it, and went back to his wife. She lay on the sofa all the evening. Mrs. Chester grumbled at the imprudence; but Clara said it was a change for the better: she was so tired of her bedroom. Her husband waited upon her at tea--a willing slave; and Clara really said a few cheerful words. Lady Ellis challenged him to chess again afterwards. Mrs. Chester and Anna sat by Clara. "Very shortly," said the doctor, the following morning, in answer to the appeal which Mr. Lake himself made. "Yearning for home, is she? I fancied there was something of the sort. Not today: perhaps not tomorrow; but I think you may venture to take her the following one, provided the wind's fair." "All right," was the answer. "Tell her so yourself, will you, my good sir?" Clara was told accordingly. And on the third day, sure enough, the wind being fair and soft for November, Mr. and Mrs. Lake terminated their long sojourn at Guild, and returned to Katterley. Home at last! In her exhilaration of spirit, it seemed just as though she had taken a renewed lease of happy life. CHAPTER IX. Colour Blindness.