her. As well might he have turned his back upon the Venus, because of
some slight abrasion which her beautiful body had received from the
ages.

But one day, having come in unexpectedly alone, he found her on the
divan in the living-room, evidently weeping, and his heart went out to
her. He flung himself down on his knees beside her.

"Oh, what is it? What is the matter?" he whispered.

Her whole body was writhing. She uncovered her eyes and looked at him
pitifully, and yet with a certain dignity. Those beautiful eyes,
brimming with tears, were not reddened, and their gaze was steady. "If I
tell you, will you keep my secret?" she whispered back, "or, rather, it
is not a secret since Doctor Gordon knows it. I wish he did not, but
will you keep your knowledge from him?"

"I promise you I will," said James fervently.

"I am terribly ill," said Mrs. Ewing simply. "I suffer at times
tortures. Don't ask me what the matter is. It is too dreadful, and
although I have no reason to feel so, it seems to me ignominious. I am
ashamed of being so ill. I feel disgraced by it, wicked." She covered
her face again and sobbed.

"Don't, don't," said James, out of his senses completely. "Don't, I
can't bear it. I love you so. Don't! I will cure you."

"You cannot. Doctor Gordon does not admit that my case is hopeless, but
he gives no hope, and you must have noticed how he suffers when he sees