His vast schemes required his attention in Berlin and he would be gone for a week, and then was going down to Montfitchet.

Ethelrida had written Zara the kindest letters.

Her fiance had told her all the pitiful story, and now she understood the tragedy in Zara's eyes, and loved her the more for her silence and her honor.
But all these thoughts seemed to be things of naught to the sad recipient of her letters, since the one and only person who mattered now in her life knew, also, and held different ones.

He was aware of all, and had no sympathy or pity--only blame--for her.

And now that her health was better and she was able to think, this ceaseless question worried her; how could Tristram possibly have known all?
Had he followed her?
As soon as she would be allowed to go out she would go and see Jenny, and question her.
And Tristram, by the wild sea--the storm like his mood had lasted all the time--came eventually to some conclusions.