"Never." He spoke curtly, almost cruelly. Saidie burst into tears.

At that moment came a smart tap at the door.

"Mr. Bolingbroke, Miss," said a voice from without.

"He can't come up." Saidie sprang from her chair. But she was too
late. The handle turned, and a tall, distinctly good-looking man
walked in.

"Miss Blackhall--how unkind to deny me admittance. You must know how
fearfully anxious I am. How is she?"

"There's the doctor--ask him."

The stranger turned eagerly.

"This is not serious, I trust. She was always delicate, but--it is
wonderful how she pulls together when the worst is over."

For almost the first time in his life John Chetwynd was tongue-tied.

Who and what was this man, and what was he to Bella? He forced
himself to give a professional opinion, and answered mechanically a
string of questions Mr. Bolingbroke poured forth, but he hardly knew
what he was saying.

"If only she gets over this she shall never be bothered any more,
poor darling," he said brokenly. "I suppose I can go in, eh?"