The dull, yellow tint of the complexion, the tarnished dimness of the large blue eyes, the discontented droop of the lips, the languor of the attitude, the pallid transparency of the wasted hands, all told of a life worn threadbare, energies exhausted, chances thrown away, a mind abandoned to despair.
'You look very ill,' said his wife, after that long blank interval, which marked so unnatural an apathy between husband and wife meeting after so long a severance.
'I am very ill.

I have been worried to death--surrounded by rogues and liars--the victim of a most infernal conspiracy.' He spoke hurriedly, growing whiter and more tremulous as he went on.
'Don't talk about it.

You agitate yourself to no purpose,' said Lady Maulevrier, with a tranquillity which seemed heartless yet which might be the result of suppressed feeling.

'If you are to face this scandal firmly and boldly next January, you must try to recover physical strength in the meanwhile.

Mental energy may come with better health.' 'I shall never be any better,' said Lord Maulevrier, testily; 'that infernal climate has shattered my constitution.' 'Two or three months of perfect rest and good nursing will make a new man of you.