The Major waited, as if expecting that his child would speak, but as she remained silent, he said gravely-- "No; she assures me that it was not serious, but she came back looking horribly startled. It was quite a shock to the system, from which she has not quite recovered yet. Now, Mr Reed, Martha will show you your room." Reed took a step forward, to find Martha, the hardest-looking, harshest-faced woman of forty he had ever seen, waiting to lead the way. "A fall," he said, as he stood alone in the prettily furnished bedroom: "alone in the mountains, and no one by to help. I wish I had been there--with Janet, too, of course." Dinah Gurdon was at that moment indulging in similar thoughts--naturally omitting Janet--and as she stood nearly opposite a glass, she became aware of her face reflected there, when she turned away with a shiver. CHAPTER EIGHT. UNDERMINING. "Hallo, Jess, you here?" cried Clive, as he suddenly encountered his brother at Dr Praed's door in Russell Square. Jessop Reed started, and in spite of his man-about-town confidence, he looked for the moment confused, but recovered himself directly. "Might say the same to you," he retorted. "I thought you were down some hole in the Midlands." "But I've come up again. Just got here from St Pancras now. I say, though, what is it? Out of sorts--been to see the Doctor?" "Eh? Oh no. I'm all right. But I'm in a hurry. See you at dinner." "Why, what's the matter with him?" thought Clive, as his brother hurried away. "Fast life, I suppose. I'll run in and ask the Doctor before I go up." He rang; the Doctor's confidential man opened the door, and stood back for him to enter. "Patient with the Doctor, Morgan?" "No, sir; past his time. Gone on to the hospital. Back soon." Clive stared. "Miss Praed's in the drawing-room, sir." "Oh, all right. I'll go up," said Clive; and he began to ascend two steps at a time. "I hope Jess isn't ill. Disappointed, I suppose, at finding the old man out."--"Ah, Janet, darling," he cried, as he entered the drawing-room, to find his fiancee standing with a bouquet in her hand, looking dreamy and thoughtful. She flushed up as he caught her in his arms and kissed her tenderly, and then frowned slightly, and put on the pouting look of a spoiled child. "Why, what a bonnie bunch of roses!" he cried. "Let's have one for a button-hole." "No, no," she said hastily, and a pained look of perplexity crossed Clive's countenance as she held the bouquet from him. Then with forced playfulness, "Mustn't be touched." "All right," he cried merrily. "I came round this way so as to see you first, pet. Raced up by the early train this morning." "Indeed!" said Janet, raising her eyebrows; "been in Derbyshire, have you not?" "My darling!" "Well, one knows so little of your movements now."