“Of course we cannot get on now,” observed Lord Charlewood “at least Lady Charlewood cannot.  How long do you think my suspense will last?”

“Not much longer,” was the calm reply.  “By noon to-morrow all will be safe and well, I hope.”

“I must wait until then,” said Lord Charlewood.  “I could not leave my wife while even the faintest shadow of danger lies over her.  If all be well, I can start the day after to-morrow; and, please Heaven, I shall be in time to see my father.  You think I shall have good news for him?”

“I have every hope that you will be able to tell him that the heir of the Mountdeans is thriving and well.”

Lord Charlewood smiled.

“Such news as that will more than reconcile him to our marriage,” he said.  After a pause he continued:  “It is a most unfortunate matter; yet I am just as well pleased that my son and heir should be born in England.  Doctor, there is another thing I wish to say.  I know perfectly well what these little country towns are—­everything is a source of gossip and sensation.  If it were known that such an incident as this had happened to me, the papers would be filled with it; and it might fall out that my father, the earl, would come to know of it before I myself could tell him.  We had better take all proper precautions against such a thing.  I should prefer that we be known here only as Mr. and Mrs. Charlewood.  No one will think of connecting the surname with the title.”

“You are quite right,” agreed the doctor.

“Another thing I wish to add is that I want you to spare no expense—­send for the best nurse, the best help it is possible to get.  Remember that I am a rich man, and that I would give my whole fortune, my life itself a thousand times over, to save or to serve my wife.”

Then came a summons for the doctor from the room above, and Lord Charlewood was once more left alone.  He was a young man, and was certainly both a good and honorable one.  He had never deliberately done anything wicked—­on the contrary he had tried always to do what was best; yet, as he stood there, a strange sense of something wanting came over him.  The young wife he loved with such passionate worship was in the hour of need, and he could render no assistance.

Later on a strange hush had fallen over the doctor’s house.  It was past 1 in the morning; the sky was overcast; the wind was moaning fitfully, as though a storm was brewing in the autumn air.  The dew lay thick and heavy on the ground.  Inside the house was the strange hush that dangerous sickness always brings with it.  The doctor had in haste summoned the best nurse in Castledene, Hannah Furney, who shook her head gravely when she saw the beautiful pale face.  An hour passed, and again Dr. Letsom sought his distinguished guest.

“I am sorry not to bring better news,” he said.  “Lady—­Mrs Charlewood—­is not so well as I had hoped she would be.  Dr. Evans is considered very clever.  I should like further advice.  Shall I send for him?”