He never really questioned the finality of her decree, he _sensed_ it meant
parting for ever. And yet, with that spring of eternal hope which animates
all living souls, unbidden arguings and possibilities rose in his enfeebled
brain, and deepened his unrest. Thus his progress towards convalescence was
long and slow.

And all this time his father and Tompson had nursed him in the old Venetian
palazzo with tenderest devotion.

The Italian servants had been left, paid up for a month, but the lady and
her Russian retinue had vanished, leaving no trace.

Both Tompson and Sir Charles knew almost the whole story now from Paul's
ravings, and neither spoke of it--except that Tompson supplied some links
to complete Sir Charles' picture.

"She was the most splendid lady you could wish to see, Sir Charles," the
stolid creature finished with. "Her servants worshipped her--and if
Mr. Verdayne is ill now, he is ill for no less than a Queen"'

This fact comforted Tompson greatly, but Paul's father found in it no
consolation.

The difficulty had been to prevent his mother from descending upon
them. She must ever be kept in ignorance of this episode in her son's life.
She belonged to the class of intellect which could never have
understood. It would have been an undying shock and horrified grief to the
end of her life--excellent, loving, conventional lady!

So after the first terrible danger was over, Sir Charles made light of