“Oh no, no, no; but it’s awfully good of you to offer. It’s not at night, but when he is out by himself that is so trying. I do follow as much as I dare. You see,” now lowering her voice, “once this mental breakdown of his took the form of suicide”--and here her voice sank to a whisper--“he tried to hang himself in Claringbold’s barn; but I caught him just in time, and it never got out. That was years ago; and afterwards he made a wonderful recovery. Now, it seems to me more like a decay of will-power and memory, with occasional outbreaks of violence--I can manage him then--but it’s the dying of the mind!” and she gave a little sob. “If I may speak plainly, Mrs. Ramsay, I really think you should get an experienced man to look after him at once. I know nothing of mental disease, but I’m sure it’s not right for you to be alone here with him, and just two maids and old Mary.” “You mean for me to get a keeper? No; I couldn’t do it; and think of what people would suppose.” Poor innocent lady! Did she imagine for a moment that all Ottinge did not know for a fact that her husband was insane? “You might let them suppose he had come to help with the dogs,” he suggested, after a moment’s hesitation. “Of course--of course--what a splendid idea!” “And you will send for him to-morrow, won’t you? Or would you like me to wire or write to-night? I know some one in London who would see about this.” (Leila would have been considerably astonished if her brother’s first commission from Ottinge was to dispatch a keeper for a male lunatic!) “I must consult Dr. Boas. Thank you very much. I won’t do anything in a hurry.” “Won’t you? Why not? I think you should see Dr. Boas at once.” “Well, then, I will to-morrow. Jim complains of his head--he often does, but now he says the pain is like a saw, and he can’t stand it. Then he imagines he is back in the Service, and expecting to be warned for parade or a court martial, and talks very strangely. Dr. Boas has gone away to a funeral, and won’t be back till to-night, and then I must confess Jim doesn’t like him; he likes no one but you, and some of the dogs--and _me_, of course,” she added, with a sickly smile. “Shall I come in this evening?” “Oh, do; you _are_ a kind fellow! Even if he never speaks now, sure I know he loves to see you sitting there. Ah, here he is, and I must go and coax him to eat some dinner!” To his visitor’s surprise, Captain Ramsay was unusually animated and talkative that night, and mentioned many little details about his father, and recalled certain daredevil deeds, acts of generosity, and even nascent love-affairs. “I say, Owen, you remember the pretty girl up at Simla--the dark-eyed one you were so mad about--and how you swore you’d run away with her, and marry her in spite of her father, the General, and the whole family? Oh, of course I know--what a duffer I am! You eloped, tore down the hill by special dâk, and were married at Saharanpore. Where is she now?”