which stood near, and pouring out a glass of wine, drank it off. I
noticed as he did so the nervous trembling of his hand. I glanced at his
face, and saw that it was thin to emaciation.

"Well," he said, "I am obliged to you for being perfectly frank with me.
My wife scarcely did well to conceal the object of your visit. But now
that you have come, I shall make use of you both for myself and
for her."

"Then you are not well?" I asked.

"Well!" he answered, with almost a shout. "Good God, no! I think that I
am going mad. I know--I know that unless relief soon comes I shall die
or become a raving maniac."

"No, nothing of the kind," I answered, soothingly; "you probably want
change. This is a fine old house, but dull, no doubt, in winter. Why
don't you go away?--to the Riviera, or some other place where there is
plenty of sunshine? Why do you stay here? The air of this place is too
damp to be good for either you or your wife."

Sir Henry sat silent for a moment, then he said, in a terse voice:--

"Perhaps you will advise me what to do after you know the nature of the
malady which afflicts me. First of all, however, I wish to speak of
my wife."

"I am ready to listen," I replied.

"You see," he continued, "that she is very delicate?"