"'Ha, but he carries my stick,' he shrieked out, and then he fell back in a state of unconsciousness against the bed." "And do you mean to tell me that he remembered nothing of this agony in the morning?" queried Dr. Rumsey. "Nothing whatever. At breakfast he complained of a slight headache and was particularly dull and moody. When I came off to you he had just started for a walk in the Park with our little boy." "I should like to see your husband, and to talk to him," said Dr. Rumsey, rising abruptly. "Can you manage to bring him here?" "I fear I cannot, for he does not consider himself ill." "Shall you be at home this evening?" "Yes, we are not going out to-night." "Then I'll drop in between eight and nine on a friendly visit. You must not be alarmed if I try to lead up to the subject of these nightly visions, for I would infinitely rather your husband remembered them than that they should quite slip from his memory." "Thank you," answered Margaret. "I will leave you alone with him when you call to-night." "It may be best for me to see him without anyone else being present." Margaret Awdrey soon afterward took her leave. That night, true to his appointment, Dr. Rumsey made his appearance at the Awdreys' house in Seymour Street. He was shown at once into the drawing-room, where Awdrey was lying back in a deep chair on one side of the hearth, and Margaret was softly playing a sonata of Beethoven's in the distance. She played with great feeling and power, and did not use any notes. The part of the room where she sat was almost in shadow, but the part round the fire where Awdrey had placed himself was full of bright light. Margaret's dark eyes looked full of painful thought when the great doctor was ushered into the room. She did not see him at first, then she noticed him and faltered in her playing. She took her fingers from the piano, and rose to meet him. "Pray go on, Margaret. What are you stopping for?" cried her husband. "Nothing soothes me like your music. Go on, go on. I see the moonlight on the trees, I feel the infinite peace, the waves are beating on the shore, there is rest." He broke off abruptly, starting to his feet. "I beg your pardon, Dr. Rumsey, I assure you I did not see you until this moment." "I happened to have half-an-hour at my disposal, and thought I would drop in for a chat," said Dr. Rumsey in his pleasant voice. Awdrey's somewhat fretful brow relaxed. "You are heartily welcome," he said. "Have you dined? Will you take anything?" "I have dined, and I only want one thing," said Dr. Rumsey. "Pray name it; I'll ring for it immediately." "You need not do that, for the person to give it to me is already in the room." The doctor bowed to Margaret as he spoke. "I love the 'Moonlight Sonata' beyond all other music," he said. "Will you continue playing it, Mrs. Awdrey? Will you rest a tired physician as well as your husband with your music?"