CHAPTER XX

CONCLUSION

How the remainder of the service was passed that morning I could never tell. Indeed, I very much doubt whether anyone else was conscious of what occurred, and I am certain that if the Vicar had misplaced the leaves of his voluminous sermon and had followed up his argumentative "secondly" with his triumphantly convincing " fifthly," neither himself nor any member of his congregation would have remarked the discrepancy. Throughout the church there was an exciting sense of rustling expectancy, and when at length the benediction had been pronounced, the parishioners hastened from their pews and gathered in anxious and wondering knots round the porch to discuss the unusual incident in all its bearings.

Miss Taylor, with the characteristic temerity of a journalist, would have accompanied the portentous group into the vestry, in the hope of gleaning some romantic details that could be utilised hereafter as

copy;" but she was thwarted by the phlegmatic clerk, who had no sympathy with the struggles of an

authoress, and who merely stolidly reiterated that "them that hadn't no business in the vestry had got to be kep' outside."

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Old lunatic!" Miss Taylor said, wrathfully, when she found that persuasions, threats or entreaties were alike of no avail. "No business there, indeed! Why, for all he can tell to the contrary, I might be the just cause and impediment myself! Come away; it's no good talking to him any longer."

For the present, therefore, we were forced to remain in ignorance of what had actually transpired during that mysterious conclave in the vestry, and although Miss Taylor chafed and worried and asked everyone, for the next few days we could learn nothing, until Dr. Magee astounded me one morning by enquiring abruptly

"I suppose you never had any idea that Claverton was already married?"

Already married!" I repeated, in bewilderment. "Yes; haven't you heard? And to such a woman, too! Why, she reminds me, as much as anything, of a galvanised corpse I once saw when I was a student in Paris!"

"But-who was she, then ?-and why didn't they live together?—and whose fault was it? Was there a divorce, or what was it?"

Divorce? No; merely a judicial separation. Incompatibility of temper I understand it was. And of course you know who it was? No other than Sister Keziah herself! Bride of the Church didn't you say she called herself? Why it seems to me she

committed bigamy-and really, I don't know whether she or Claverton is the more to be pitied!"

Later on I managed to extract from the Matron a confirmation of the Doctor's report. Sister Keziah, I learnt, had secured a deed of separation, and she resolved, after the miserable fiasco she had made of her short experience of married life, to henceforth lead the life of seclusion and self-denial practised by the St. Lawrence Sisterhood. Mr. Claverton, greatly in need of money, and sorely pressed by creditors, had become engaged to, and would have married Sybil Vansittart—a single-hearted, affectionate girl, possessed of some considerable means. He had, however, counted too securely upon Sister Keziah's absolute ignorance of what was passing in the world around her, and his neatly contrived plan had been frustrated by my casual reference to his approaching marriage in my letter to the Principal of St. Lawrence's. Of course, as matters had now turned out it was uncertain what Mr. Claverton would do next; but, as the Matron observed, after all that had been disclosed concerning his character, it seemed almost imperative that he should leave the country immediately.

'How would you like to take a case upon the Private Staff again?" the Matron asked me one morning, as she paused for the customary little chat when the first round of the wards was over. Something in the tone belied the almost studied lightness of the words, and I looked up quickly, with a swift intuition of some coming trouble.

"What is the matter? Who is ill?" I asked, anxiously; and the Matron, smiling a little, but with a softened expression in her eyes, said, as she handed me the letter:

Read that. But I shan't say you may go until I have seen Dr. Magee and heard what he thinks about it."

I glanced hastily at the envelope, and the sight of the familiar handwriting that I almost expected and yet dreaded to see, caused me to tremble and turn cold with a momentary faintness-but only for a moment. I swallowed a draught of cold water, and, then, with more self-command than I thought I possessed, I read the short letter through, conscious the while of a dull and heavy aching at my heart, and feeling as though the end of all things had now come. But without a word I returned the letter to the Matron, and waited as patiently as I could till Dr. Magee came into the ward at ten o'clock. I saw at once that the Matron had discussed the subject already, and the expression of his face conveyed entire disapproval of any alteration in the present arrangements of the Hospital. However, when I had received all the customary instructions for the day, and saw that he intended to go without attending to the letter at all, I followed him to the door and said, anxiously

"Well? What am I to do about Harold ? And as the Doctor hesitated I added, rapidly, and abandoning the indifferent tone I had endeavoured, a little unsuccessfully, to assume

"Oh, do say I may go! I must-I really must! You will let me, won't you ?"

"Go to London ? Nonsense! We can't spare you just now from your post here, and, besides, you're not strong enough. Really, I should have thought he would have had better sense than to suggest it! And—why, Evelyn my dear, you surely don't want to go?"

if

"I must indeed, I must!" I reiterated. "I promised once that whenever he was ill I would go he wanted me, and-oh, I can't explain everythingbut you've no idea of what he once saved me from."

The old Doctor looked at me keenly for a moment without speaking. Then he drew a long breath, and said, with infinite gentleness

"Why my dear Evelyn, I had no idea of that! And I had sometimes thought, too-dear me, dear me! Well-well—I'll manage it all right with the Matron, and we must let you go somehow. By the way, what's the matter with him?"

"He didn't say clearly-he said something about a chill-but it was dreadfully vague-and the writing wasn't a bit steady-it ran all over the page—and I know he's very ill-and-and don't take any notice of me, Doctor! I shall be myself in a minute, but I can't help feeling a little bad over it!"

Instead of scolding me for the hysteria I could control no longer, Dr. Magee administered a dose of sal volatile, instructed an under-nurse to take my place in the ward for the present, and despatched me at once to my own room to put together what things