"True, and two hundred a year is good pay even for unpleasant notoriety. Yes, on the whole I think I am justified in accepting the offer for her. But now we must consider what fairy tale we are going to concoct for her benefit."
"Oh, I don't know," sighed Cyril wearily.
"Imagination giving out, or conscience awakening—which is it?" asked Guy.
"Don't chaff!"
"Sorry, old man; but joking aside, we must really decide what we are to tell Miss Trevor. You can no longer pose as Miss Prentice's husband——"
"Why not?" interrupted Cyril sharply.
"What possible excuse have you for doing so, now that she is to leave the doctor's care?"
"I am sure it would have a very bad effect on Miss Prentice's health, if I were to tell her that she is not my wife."
"H'm, h'm!" Campbell regarded his friend quizzically.
"Remember, she is completely cut off from the past," urged Cyril; "she has neither friend nor relation to cling to. I am the one person in the world she believes she has a claim on. I can't undeceive her. Besides, the doctor's orders are that she shall not be in any way agitated."