"Lord Loring ought to know what has happened to me," he said. "I have no
heart to speak of it myself. Tell him everything, and if he agrees with
you, I will submit to see the doctors." With those words he left us
together.

It is almost needless to say that Lord Loring did agree with me. He
was himself disposed to think that the moral remedy, in Romayne's case,
might prove to be the best remedy.

"With submission to what the doctors may decide," his lordship said,
"the right thing to do, in my opinion, is to divert our friend's mind
from himself. I see a plain necessity for making a complete change in
the solitary life that he has been leading for years past. Why shouldn't
he marry? A woman's influence, by merely giving a new turn to his
thoughts, might charm away that horrible voice which haunts him.
Perhaps you think this a merely sentimental view of the case? Look at it
practically, if you like, and you come to the same conclusion. With that
fine estate--and with the fortune which he has now inherited from his
aunt--it is his duty to marry. Don't you agree with me?"

"I agree most cordially. But I see serious difficulties in your
lordship's way. Romayne dislikes society; and, as to marrying, his
coldness toward women seems (so far as I can judge) to be one of the
incurable defects of his character."

Lord Loring smiled. "My dear sir, nothing of that sort is incurable, if
we can only find the right woman."

The tone in which he spoke suggested to me that he had got "the right
woman"--and I took the liberty of saying so. He at once acknowledged