A morning notable in its early hours for much uncommon bustle on the part of Sister and Nurse aroused him at last to consciousness that something was expected of him and that he must give attention to where he was and what was going on about him. Sister and Nurse, who always wore their cheerful blue cotton dresses until the afternoon, appeared this morning in their serge gowns. Doctor, who was generally in a tweed suit with cyclist trouser clips at his ankles, came in a frock-coat and wriggling his hands with the action of a man unaccustomed to having stiff cuffs about his wrists. The blue quilt was exchanged for a white one with roses down the centre associated with the days when a harmonium was played somewhere in the building and when the sound of hymns floated across Mr. Wriford's thoughts. "Visiting Committee Day to-day," Sister told Mr. Wriford, "and Doctor's going to have a talk with you when he comes. I should try and talk, you know. Isn't there a lot you want to hear about?" This was a question Sister often asked him, but to which he never responded with more than: "I'd just like to be alone, Sister." To-day the unusual bustle and stir had already shaken the steady vigil of his thoughts, and he said: "Yes--yes, thank you, I think I would." Then Doctor in the frock-coat and with the wriggling hands-- "Well, we'll just have a talk," said Doctor, speaking to Sister but looking at Mr. Wriford, after the usual examination and questions. And when Sister had left them he sat on the side of the bed and began. "You've had a rough passage, you know," said Doctor. "But you're going on fine now. I've just let you be, but I think you ought to begin to talk a bit now. You're feeling pretty fit?" "I'm very strong really," said Mr. Wriford. "I'm weak now, but I'm very strong really. I feel all right. I'm sorry I've not said much. I've been thinking." "That's all right," said Doctor. "You've been mending, too, while you've been quiet. Do you remember everything?" "Yes, I remember." "Remember the coastguards finding you?" "No, I don't remember that." Doctor laughed. "I expect you're further behind-hand than you think, then. How long do you think you've been here?--nearly two months!" Mr. Wriford said without emotion: "Two months. Will you tell me the date, please?" "December--nearly Christmas. It's Christmas next week. Now look here, what about your friends? We must send them a happy Christmas from you, what?" "I've no friends," said Mr. Wriford. "No friends! None at all? Come, you must have, you know." "I've not," said Mr. Wriford. "Look here, as soon as I'm well, I'll go away. That's all I want." Doctor looked puzzled. "Got a name, I suppose?" "Wriford." "Wriford--that's funny. I've just finished reading again--you're no relation to the author, I suppose? Philip Wriford?" Mr. Wriford smiled and shook his head.