'And supposing it were so, what would be your advice? Change of air and
scene?'

'Certainly.'

'Have you spoken to her on the subject?'

'Yes; but she says she will not leave Ashwood.'

'We cannot send her away by force. What would you advise us to do?'

'There's nothing to be done. We must hope for the best. There is no
immediate cause for fear.... But, by the way, she looks as if she suffered
from sleeplessness.'

'Yes, she does; but she has been ordered chloral. Any harm in that?'

'In her case, it is a necessity; but do you think she takes it?'

'Oh yes, she has been taking choral.'

The conversation paused; the doctor went over to the writing-table, wrote a
prescription, made a few remarks, and took his leave, announcing his
intention of returning that day fortnight.

Hubert said, and his tone implied reference to some anterior conversation,
'We are powerless in this matter. You see we can do nothing. We only
succeed in making ourselves unhappy; we do not change in anything. I am
wretchedly unhappy!'