Ralph Elthorne's was an exceptional case, and his moods were many. The principal feeling with him, in the intervals when he was free from pain, was one of irritation against fate for selecting him to bear all this trouble and discomfort. Illness had been so rare with him that at times he found it hard to realise the fact that he was lying there, utterly helpless and forced to depend upon those about him for everything, the result being that he was about as petulant and restless a patient as could be well imagined. In addition, he grew day by day more and more suspicious, lying and watching every look and act of those about him, ready to distort the most trifling things, and fancy that they were all part and parcel of some deeply laid scheme which was to interfere with his peace of mind and tend to his utter dethronement from the old position he had held so long. On this particular morning he had been lying placidly enough, chatting with his son, while Nurse Elisia was in attendance, till Neil, feeling that the time had now come for his father to be prepared, let drop a few words about Sir Denton's visit. The change was almost startling. There was a wildly eager, excited look in his eyes, and suspicion in the tone of his voice, as he exclaimed: "Coming down? Sir Denton? For what reason? Quick! Tell me why?" He caught his son's wrist, and his long thin fingers gripped it firmly as his troubled face, about which the grey hair was growing long since his illness, was turned searchingly to his son. "Don't take it like that, my dear father," said Neil, smiling. "It is not the first time we have had him to see you." "No, no! I know all that; but why, why is he coming?" "I asked him to come down, sir, that is all." "Ah! you asked him to come down. Why, why was I not told?" "For the reason you are showing," replied Neil quietly. "I was afraid that if you knew you might agitate yourself, and fill your brain with fancies about your state." "So would any sick man," cried Elthorne sharply. "And that is not all. You are keeping a great deal from me in your false wisdom. But you cannot hide it from one who knows intuitively what changes take place in him. I can see and feel it all. I am worse." "My dear sir, no," said Neil, smiling. "Don't contradict me, boy," cried his father fiercely. "Surely I ought to know from my own sensations. I am far worse, and you have sent for Sir Denton because you have reached the end of your teachings, and feel helpless to do any more." "You do not give me much credit, father," said Neil, smiling. "Yes, yes, I do, boy, a great deal," said the old man excitedly. "Then it has come to this at last." "My dear father, that is what I feared, or I should have spoken to you sooner. I assure you that you have no cause for alarm." "Words, words, words," cried Mr Elthorne piteously. "The case is absolutely hopeless. You know it, and so you have sent for Sir Denton again."