"After a fashion. But it is hard to reason on the reasonless. The worst form of madness is the total subversion of the intellectual faculties; when the mind represents everything totally opposite to what it is. I remember hearing of two lovers who went mad through a cruel separation. When they were brought together they recognised each other, but each denied the other to be the beloved one. A distinguished mathematician went mad through mistaking the number 6 for an 0 in all his calculations." "We can appreciate the horror of madness when it is brought home to us. Much surely may be done by tenderness and sympathy?" "They are both severely taxed. I do not utterly despair of your wife, though she will have to be worse before she is better. My parting advice, Mr. Thorburn, is to endeavour to ascertain if she is at all troubled in her mind. If a real sorrow lies there it should be uprooted; if an imaginary woe it must be reasoned away. You must have patience; watch her narrowly; sound her persistently, though with delicacy, and keep her as cheerful as opportunity will allow." A reference to the time-tables showed a train to be leaving Cornpool at twelve. Having ordered the phaeton to be in readiness, we went for a walk towards the sea. It was his own wish to keep away from the house. The walk was hardly agreeable; my mood was sombre and melancholy, and all my thoughts were with Geraldine. On our return we found the phaeton waiting, and having pressed a cheque into his hand, I bade him farewell. CHAPTER X. When Dr. F---- was gone I went in search of Geraldine. I met a servant and asked for Mrs. Thorburn; she answered that her mistress had just come in from the garden and had gone upstairs. I mounted to the bedroom, and found the door locked. I rapped and called to her to admit me. The key was turned, the door opened, and Geraldine stood before me, with the skirt of her dress off, her arms bared to the elbows, and her hair wild. "Come in," she said; and when I was in she locked the door again. I noticed that her hands and arms were covered with soil; there were fragments of dry leaves in her hair, and on the carpet, from the door to the toilet-table, were marks of her muddy boots. There was a keen look of triumph on her white face; and sharp curves at the extremity of her lips made the expression of her mouth malevolent. I pretended to take no notice of her appearance. She went to the washstand, brimmed the basin and began to wash. "My friend is gone," said I; "you will have me now all to yourself." She looked over her shoulder and nodded. "I rather fancy he guessed you did not like him," I continued; "for he expressed no surprise at your absence, nor did he desire to bid you good-bye." "There was a little devil in each of his eyes," she replied; "mocking imps, that made mouths at me and frightened me." "That is strange. It appeared to me that he had a kind eye."