When the train steamed into the little country station, I found a carriage and pair ready to meet me. Evidently, to judge by the general get-up of the whole thing, the Crawfords were wealthy folk; and this impression was confirmed when we reached the house, which was standing in the midst of a lovely park. In true country fashion, the hall-doors were standing open, and my host met me on the threshold with outstretched hands. ‘This is exceedingly kind of you,’ he said genially, ‘for I know you have come at your very earliest convenience.—Journey from town pleasant?—Yes? That’s right.—James, take Mr Lennox’s things to his room. Lunch in the morning-room, hey?—Come along, my dear sir; you must be half famished.’ So saying, he preceded me down a long corridor, whence I caught distant glimpses of a beautiful garden at the back of the house, and into a snug little room where luncheon was laid. While I discussed a cold chicken, Mr Crawford went on chatting; and ere I went to my room for a wash and brush up before presenting myself to his wife, we were excellent friends. I do not think I ever met a man who so much charmed me at first sight; nay, he more than charmed, he captivated me. He was about thirty, and exceedingly handsome, with fair curly hair, and bright blue eyes. He had a bronzed complexion, and a hearty laugh, and was altogether a most attractive specimen of a young Englishman. When I had finished luncheon, his manner changed abruptly as he began speaking of his young wife. ‘I did not like to enter upon the subject before you were rested,’ he began courteously; ‘but I am intensely anxious you should see her. For some months past she has been suffering from intense melancholia, and lately she has taken a deep distrust of those around her, more particularly of me.’ He stopped abruptly and bit his lip. ‘Doctor, I simply worship her,’ he went on passionately. ‘When I married her five years ago, she was the blithest, merriest girl in all the shire; and now, to see her like this—why, it breaks my heart!’ and he dropped into a chair and buried his face in his hands. There was an awkward pause, for in those days I was too inexperienced to be much of a hand at consolation, and then I stepped nearer to him and laid my hand upon his shoulder. ‘Come, come,’ I said cheerily, ‘there is no need to despair like this. We must hope for the best. How does she show her distrust of you?’ He raised his head to answer me. ‘By keeping the boy from me, for one thing. She will hardly let me touch him.’ ‘The boy? A son of yours?’ ‘Our only child,’ he answered—‘a dear little fellow of nearly four; and she betrays a terrible fear whenever I have him with me.’ ‘Does she eat well?’ ‘Hardly at all.’ ‘Sleep at night?’ He shook his head; and then followed a string of various professional questions. Our conversation at an end, I requested to be shown to my room, promising to be in the drawing-room for five o’clock tea, when I should be introduced to Mrs Crawford.