'Oh, Ralph, I'm sorry to find you ill.... But you're better to-day, aren't you?' 'Yes, I feel a little better to-day. It was good of you to come.' 'I came at once.' 'How did you hear I was ill? We've not written to each other for a long while.' 'I heard it in the National. Miss Brand told me.' 'You know her?' 'I remember, she wrote about the new pictures for an American paper.' 'Yes. How familiar it sounds, those dear days in the National.' Ralph's eyes were fixed upon her. She could not bear their wistfulness, and she lowered hers. 'She told me you were ill.' 'But when did you return from France? Tell me.' 'About six weeks ago. I fell ill the moment I got back.' 'What was the matter?' 'I had overdone it. I had overworked myself. I had let myself run down. The doctor said that I didn't eat enough meat. You know I never did care for meat.' 'I remember.' 'When I got better I was ordered to the seaside, then I went on a visit to some friends and didn't get back to Sutton till Christmas. We had a lot of stupid people staying with us. I couldn't do any work while they were in the house. When they left I began a picture, but I tried too difficult subjects and got into trouble with my drawing. You said I'd never succeed. I often thought of what you said. Well, then, I went to the National. Nellie Brand told me you were ill, that you had been ill for some time, at least a month.' A thin smile curled Ralph's red lips and his eyes seemed to grow more wistful. 'I've been ill more than a month,' he said. 'But no matter, Nellie Brand told you and---' 'Of course I could not stay at the National. I felt I must see you. I didn't know how. ... My feet turned towards St. James' Park. I stood on the little bridge thinking. You know I was very fond of you, Ralph, only it was in my way and you weren't satisfied.' She looked at him sideways, so that her bright brown eyes might have all their charm; his pale eyes, wistful and dying, were fixed on her, not intently as a few moments before, but vaguely, and the thought stirred in her that he might die before her eyes. In that case what was she to do? 'Are you listening?' she said. 'Oh yes, I'm listening,' he answered, his smile was reassuring, and she said: 'Suddenly I felt that--that I must see you. I felt I must know what was the matter, so I took a cab and came straight here. Your servant---' 'You mean Ellen.' 'I thought she was your servant, she said that you were lying down and could not be disturbed. She did not seem to wish me to see you or to know what was the matter.' 'I was asleep when you called yesterday, but when I heard of your visit I told her to write the letter which you received this morning. It was kind of you to come.'