The good little doctor looked at her earnestly for a moment, as if to assure himself that she was not only desirous of hearing the truth but also able to bear it, and then made reply frankly, but was unable even then to dismount entirely from the hobby which he and his wife rode so diligently in theory. ‘You will agree with me, my dear Miss Heathcote, that economy is the great principle which should regulate our lives—not merely economy in finance, but likewise in work, in strength, and (most important of all) in health. I daresay our friend has told you that I spoke to him on this subject.’ ‘When writing, he mentioned that you had visited him,’ she answered, with some nervous anticipations assailing her. ‘Well, I warned him then that his condition was extremely precarious. It is, in fact, that condition which when a man has fallen into, it requires him directly to throw up everything, if he cares to live. It requires him to sacrifice fortune, prosperity, and to run away anywhere and do anything to escape it.’ ‘But how can he do that?’ Her own observations of Philip’s changing moods recently, formed a convincing argument in favour of the importance of what the doctor said. The doctor shook his head and smiled regretfully. ‘That is precisely what he asked; that is what every man to whom the advice is given asks. My answer is—_don’t_ ask how, but go at once. Your affairs will be settled much more satisfactorily to all parties in a year or two if you go, than they can be if you remain and die in a month or two.’ ‘But surely Philip is not so bad as that!’ ‘You asked me to speak plainly, and I am quoting extreme cases,’ said Dr Joy, anxious to mitigate the alarm which he saw his verdict had created, whilst at the same time holding to his point. ‘Philip is not quite so bad as that yet; but he will be in a few months, unless something occurs to relieve him from his present anxieties.’ The doctor’s last words gave her more encouragement than he could have expected, or perhaps intended to give; and the terror which had made her pulse seem to stop, was changed to confident hope. She had every reason to believe that in a few weeks, it might be in a few days, Philip would be relieved of all his anxieties. But this did not lessen in any degree her eagerness to have direct and frequent information as to the state of his health. Dr Joy readily agreed to call at the chambers in Gray’s Inn on the following day, and report to her on his return; then they were to arrange about further visits. Thus being relieved to some extent on this important point, she prepared to take leave; but Dr and Mrs Joy suggested that she should have a fly to take her home, as the snow was falling fast, and already lay three or four inches deep on the ground, whilst it had drifted into an embankment against the opposite houses. ‘I should not think of your hiring a conveyance,’ said the doctor; ‘but we have had a long and heavy day, and both my horses are fagged out.’