"Show her in," I said, hastily, and the next moment a tall,
slightly-made, fair-haired girl entered the room.

She looked very young, scarcely more than twenty, and I could hardly
believe that she was, what her card indicated, a married woman.

The colour rushed into her cheeks as she held out her hand to me. I
motioned her to a chair, and then asked her what I could do for her.

"Oh, you can help me," she said, clasping her hands and speaking in a
slightly theatrical manner. "My husband, Sir Henry Studley, is very
unwell, and I want you to come to see him--can you?--will you?"

"With pleasure," I replied. "Where do you live?"

"At Studley Grange, in Wiltshire. Don't you know our place?"

"I daresay I ought to know it," I replied, "although at the present
moment I can't recall the name. You want me to come to see your husband.
I presume you wish me to have a consultation with his medical
attendant?"

"No, no, not at all. The fact is, Sir Henry has not got a medical
attendant. He dislikes doctors, and won't see one. I want you to come
and stay with us for a week or so. I have heard of you through mutual
friends--the Onslows. I know you can effect remarkable cures, and you
have a great deal of tact. But you can't possibly do anything for my
husband unless you are willing to stay in the house and to notice his
symptoms."