"Afraid?
How should I be afraid--since you are my lord and I am your love?
Do not we belong to one another ?" And in spite of the peace Mrs.Cricklander's absence caused in the atmosphere, John Derringham grew more unutterably wretched as time went on.
His cup seemed to be filling from all sides.

The Government was going out in disaster, and, instead of being able to stand by his colleagues and fight, and perhaps avert catastrophe by his brilliant speeches and biting wit, he was chained like a log to a sofa and was completely impotent.
It was no wonder his convalescence was slow, and that Arabella grew anxious about him.

She felt that some of Mrs.Cricklander's wrath and disgust because of this state of things would fall upon her head.
His ankle was a great deal better now, it was five weeks since the accident, and in a day or two he hoped to leave for London.

Mrs.
Cricklander would be obliged to take an after-cure at the highly situated castle of an Austrian Prince, an old friend of hers--where the air was most bracing, she wrote.

For her strict instructions to Arabella before she left, after telling her she might have her mother to keep her company, and so earning the good creature's deep gratitude, had been: "You must keep me informed of every slightest turn in Mr.
Derringham--because, until he is perfectly well and amusing again, I simply can't come back to England.