conversationalist. Perhaps I ought to put all this in the past tense,
for now he scarcely ever speaks--he reads next to nothing--it is
difficult to persuade him to eat--he will not leave the house--he used
to have a rather ruddy complexion--he is now deadly pale and terribly
emaciated. He sighs in the most heartrending manner, and seems to be in
a state of extreme nervous tension. In short, he is very ill, and yet he
seems to have no bodily disease. His eyes have a terribly startled
expression in them--his hand trembles so that he can scarcely raise a
cup of tea to his lips. In short, he looks like a man who has seen
a ghost."

"When did these symptoms begin to appear?" I asked.

"It is mid-winter now," said Lady Studley. "The queer symptoms began to
show themselves in my husband in October. They have been growing worse
and worse. In short, I can stand them no longer," she continued, giving
way to a short, hysterical sob. "I felt I must come to someone--I have
heard of you. Do, do come and save us. Do come and find out what is the
matter with my wretched husband."

"I will write to you to-night," I said, in as kind a voice as I could
muster, for the pretty, anxious wife interested me already. "It may not
be possible for me to stay at Studley Grange for a week, but in any case
I can promise to come and see the patient. One visit will probably be
sufficient--what your husband wants is, no doubt, complete change."

"Oh, yes, yes," she replied, standing up now. "I have said so scores of
times, but Sir Henry won't stir from Studley--nothing will induce him to
go away. He won't even leave his own special bedroom, although I expect
he has dreadful nights." Two hectic spots burnt in her cheeks as she