Immediately after breakfast, I followed Lady Studley into her
morning-room. I had already made up my mind how to act. Her husband
should have my full confidence--she only my partial view of the
situation.

"Well," I said, "I have seen your husband and talked to him. I hope he
will soon be better. I don't think you need be seriously alarmed about
him. Now for yourself, Lady Studley. I am anxious to examine your lungs.
Will you allow me to do so?"

"I suppose Henry has told you I am consumptive?"

"He says you are not well," I answered. "I don't need his word to assure
me of that fact--I can see it with my own eyes. Please let me examine
your chest with my stethoscope."

She hesitated for a moment, looking something like a wild creature
brought to bay. Then she sank into a chair, and with trembling fingers
unfastened her dress. Poor soul, she was almost a walking skeleton--her
beautiful face was all that was beautiful about her. A brief examination
told me that she was in the last stage of phthisis--in short, that her
days were numbered.

"What do you think of me?" she asked, when the brief examination was
over.

"You are ill," I replied.

"How soon shall I die?"