Robert answered that he was better; "progressing--quietly, he thought he might say." "That's good hearing, old boy! that's glorious hearing! You certainly have more colour to-day, and your eyes are brighter, and you look more yourself. How do you feel about your nerves?" "What a wonder you are, Charley! No other man in the world would ask such a question, knowing perfectly that if my nerves were in a queer state, there is nothing so likely to knock them over as being asked after them. However, they're tolerably right, thank God!--Why?" "Well, I suppose it was a very stupid question; and I'm not about to mend it by what I'm going to say now. I was going to say, if your nerves are tolerably right, and you feel decently strong and able to bear it, there's somebody in the sitting-room--Good God, Robert!" He might well exclaim, for Robert Streightley had fallen forward on the table, his face ghastly pale, his hand shaking and trembling, his voice, sunk to a whisper, muttering, "Has she come at last? has she come?" "No, no, my dear fellow; a thousand times no. Compose yourself, for heaven's sake. What a tremendous ass I am in any matter like this--sure to make a mess of it! No, no; there's no 'she' there at all; only an old friend of mine and an acquaintance of yours; and I thought if you were well enough, you might like to see him. I may as well tell you at once it's Gordon Frere." Streightley started as though he had been cut by a whip, seemed about to speak; hesitated for a moment; and finally said, "I'll come in and see him at once." "You will?" said Charley Yeldham, overjoyed beyond measure; "you will? That's first-rate. I'm delighted, Robert." "Why should I not?" said Streightley. "If he were to refuse to see me, I could understand that well enough; but now when I, who--and I'm determined that I won't let slip this opportunity of telling him--" "Robert, Robert, what nonsense you're talking! Frere, of course, like all the rest of the world, has heard of Mrs. Streightley's departure; and as he has a tolerably clear head, he might be of use in our difficulties; but as for going back into bygones, I forbid it utterly. Now, will you see him or not?" "Give me your arm, Charley, old fellow, and help me into the other room at once." The few days' illness, with all the suffering and suspense which had preceded it, had had a grievous effect on Robert Streightley's appearance; so that Gordon Frere--usually impassive, as society required him--gave a great start when he saw him entering the room leaning on Yeldham's arm; and, hastily advancing, took him by the hand and murmured a few words of kindness and sympathy. Robert Streightley was in a very weak state still; his eyes filled with tears, and the pressure with which he endeavoured to return Frere's manual greeting was a very feeble one.