It was to be faced this morning when Robin came down in her soft felt hat and short tweed skirt and coat for walking. Dowie saw Mrs. Macaur staring through a window at her, with slightly open mouth, as if suddenly struck with amazement which held in it a touch of shock. Dowie herself was obliged to make an affectionate joke. "Your short skirts make such a child of you that I feel as if I was taking you out to walk in the park, and I must hold your hand," she said. Robin glanced down at herself. "They do make people look young," she agreed. "The Lady Downstairs looked quite like a little girl when she went out in them. But it seems so long since I was little." * * * * * She walked with Dowie bravely though they did not go far from the Castle. It happened that they met the doctor driving up the road which twisted in and out among the heath and gorse. For a moment he looked startled but he managed to control himself quickly and left his dogcart to his groom so that he might walk with them. His eyes--at once grave and keen--scarcely left her as he strolled by her side. When they reached the Castle he took Dowie aside and talked anxiously with her. "There is a change," he said. "Has anything happened which might have raised her spirits? It looks like that kind of thing. She mustn't do too much. There is always that danger to guard against in a case of sudden mental stimulation." "She had a dream last night," Dowie began. "A dream!" he exclaimed disturbedly. "What kind of dream?" "The dream did it. I saw the change the minute I went to her this morning," Dowie answered. "Last night she looked like a dying thing--after one of her worst breakdowns. This morning she lay there peaceful and smiling and almost rosy. She had dreamed that she saw her husband and talked to him. She believed it wasn't a common dream--that it wasn't a dream at all. She believes he really came to her." Doctor Benton rubbed his chin and there was serious anxiety in the movement. Lines marked themselves on his forehead. "I am not sure I like that--not at all sure. In fact I'm sure I don't like it. One can't say what it may lead to. It would be better not to encourage her to dwell on it, Mrs. Dowson." "The one thing that's in my mind, sir," Dowie's respectfulness actually went to the length of hinting at firmness--"is that it's best not to _dis_courage her about anything just now. It brought a bit of natural colour to her cheeks and it made her eat her breakfast--which she hasn't been able to do before. They _must_ be fed, sir," with the seriousness of experience. "You know that better than I do." "Yes--yes. They must have food." "She suggested the going out herself," said Dowie. "I'd thought she'd be too weak and listless to move. And they _ought_ to have exercise." "They _must_ have exercise," agreed Doctor Benton, but he still rubbed his chin. "Did she seem excited or feverish?"