"Nothing more than the reaction after too great physical fatigue," replied the doctor.
"The Lady Doris looks stronger than she really is; the best advice I can give is, that she should leave London at once, and have some weeks of perfect rest in the country. Medicine is of no use."
Lady Linleigh quite agreed in this view of the subject, and the earl declared impetuously that they should go at once—to-morrow if she is better, he said, "I should not like such another fright."
That evening when Lady Doris lay on the little couch in Lady Linleigh's boudoir, and Earle sat by her side, he said to her:
"What caused that sudden illness, my darling? Did anything frighten you?"
"No; I was only tired, Earle."
"Tired! I am beginning to dread the word. Do you know what they told me, Doris?"
"No," she replied, looking at him with frightened eyes; "what was it?"
"One of the servants said she was quite sure that she had heard some one talking to you in the conservatory; but when I went in you were quite alone. Had any one been there?"
"What nonsense," she cried evasively; time and experience had taught her that it was foolish to risk the truth recklessly.