"Listen!" he said at length. "There is no need for all this wearing anxiety. You must make up your mind to rest to-day, or you will be ill. It won't hurt you--or him either--to wait a few hours longer." "I shan't be ill!" she assured him earnestly. "I am never ill. And I want to see him--oh, so much. I must see him. He isn't--he isn't worse?" "No," said Burke. "Then why mustn't I see him?" she urged. "Why do you look like that? Are you keeping back something? Has--has something happened that you don't want me to know? Ah, that is it! I thought so! Please tell me what it is! It is far better to tell me." She drew her hand from his and sat up, steadily facing him. She was breathing quickly, but she had subdued her agitation. Her eyes met his unflinchingly. He made an abrupt gesture--as if compelled against his will. "Well--if you must have it! He has gone." "Gone!" she repeated. "What--do you mean by that?" He looked down into her whitening face, and his own grew sterner. "Just what I say. He cleared out yesterday morning early. No one knows where he is." Sylvia's hand unconsciously pressed her heart. It was beating very violently. She spoke with a great effort. "Perhaps he has gone to Ritzen--to look for me." "I think not," said Burke drily. His tone said more than his words. She made a slight involuntary movement of shrinking. But in a moment she spoke again with a pathetic little smile. "You are very good to me. But I mustn't waste any more of your time. Please don't worry about me any more! I can quite well bandage my knee myself." The grimness passed from his face. "I shall have to see it to satisfy myself it is going on all right," he said. "But I needn't bother you now. I'll send Mary Ann in with some tea." "Thank you," said Sylvia. She was gathering her scattered forces again after the blow; she spoke with measured firmness. "Now please don't think about me any more! I am not ill--or going to be. You may look at my knee this evening--if you are very anxious. But not before." "Then you will stay in bed?" said Burke. "Very well; if I must," she conceded. He turned to go; then abruptly turned back. "And you won't lie and worry? You've too much pluck for that." She smiled again--a quivering, difficult smile. "I am not at all plucky, really. I am only pretending." He smiled back at her suddenly. "You're a brick! I've never seen any woman stand up to hard knocks as you do. They generally want to be carried over the rough places. But you--you stand on your feet." The genuine approbation of his voice brought the colour back to her face. His smile too, though it reminded her piercingly of Guy, sent a glow of comfort to her chilled and trembling heart. "I want to if I can," she said. "But I've had rather a--knock-out this time. I shall be all right presently, when I've had time to pull myself together." He bent abruptly and laid his hand upon hers.