'By the way, is Charlie in town?' she asked. 'I heard from him just before I left America; he said he had not been well. His letter made me feel rather anxious. There was an undercurrent of--of keeping something back.' 'Did he tell you no more than that?' asked Judy. Sybil glanced up, and, seeing Judy's face, knitted her brows into a frown. 'Judy, what is it?' she asked quickly; 'tell me at once.' 'I can't, dear; he wished to tell you himself. I promised him I wouldn't.' 'But is there something wrong--something really wrong?' Judy nodded. 'Where is he?' 'Down at Brighton with his mother.' 'Judy, you must tell me,' said her sister; 'it is merely saving me a couple of hours of horrid anxiety. I shall go down to see him this afternoon. Now, what is it? Is it lungs? I will tell Charlie I forced you to tell me.' 'There is no use in my not answering you,' said Judy. 'Yes, it is that.' 'Serious?' 'Consumption is always serious.' Sybil said nothing for a moment. 'I shall go down this afternoon,' she said. 'Why is he at Brighton? Why is he not at some proper place?' 'He went to Sheringham for a time, but he left it.' 'But he has got to get better,' said Sybil quickly. 'He must do what is sensible.' Judy glanced up at her a moment. 'As things at present stand, he does not much want to get better,' she said. Sybil turned, and looked at her long and steadily. 'You mean me?' she asked. There was silence. Sybil went to the writing-table and wrote a telegram, while her sister took up the paper she had dropped and looked at it mechanically. Almost immediately a short paragraph struck her eye, but her mind, dwelling on other things, did not at once take in its significance. 'Yet you advised me yourself not to marry him,' said Sybil, as she rang the bell. 'I know I did; nor have I really changed my mind. But it is in your power to make him want to live.' Sybil turned on her rather fiercely. 'You have no right to load me with such responsibilities,' she said. 'It is not my fault that he loves me; it is not my fault that I am as I am.' 'I know it is not,' said Judy; 'but, Sybil, be wise--be very wise. I don't know what you can do, but certainly nobody else can do anything. I am very sorry for you.' Sybil gave the telegram, asking Charlie if she could come, to the servant, and stood in silence again by the fire. After a pause Judy took up the paper again. 'There is something here that concerns you,' she said; 'it is that Mr. Bilton arrived in London yesterday.' Sybil turned, then suddenly threw her arms wide. 'Oh, Judy, Judy,' she cried, 'I am unutterably unhappy! I am perplexed, puzzled; I don't know what I feel.' And she flung herself down on the sofa by Judy's side, and burst into uncontrollable sobs. CHAPTER XI