"If I could only realise it! Oh, give me time, sir!" "Certainly, certainly; by all means take your time. Nevertheless, when you consider my distress of mind, I appeal to you, madam, to be merciful and relieve it. After travelling all this distance in the dark--" "In the dark?" queried Miss Marty, with a glance at the window. "Tormented by a thousand speculations. In my house, too! In good health, and apparently the best of spirits; and then without a word, like the snuff of a candle!" "His brain must be affected," Miss Marty murmured, gazing at the letter again. The handwriting swam before her. "Excuse me, sir, I will not detain you a minute." She ran from the room and upstairs to her room, her knees shaking beneath her. Heaven grant that the Doctor was at home! She agitated her window-blind violently and drew it down to the third pane. "You are wanted--urgent," was the message it conveyed. Yes, he was at home. "I come, instantly," answered her lover's window; and in less than a minute, to her infinite relief, the Doctor emerged from his front doorway and came bustling up the street almost at a trot. She ran down and admitted him. In her face he read instantly that something serious had happened; something serious if not catastrophical: but with finger on lip she enjoined silence and led the way to the parlour. "This gentleman has just arrived from Plymouth, with serious news of the Major." "Serious? He is not ill, I trust?" "Worse," said Mr. Basket. "But first," interposed Miss Marty, "you must read this letter. Yes, yes!"--blushing hotly, she thrust it into the Doctor's unresisting hands--"you have the right. Forgive me if I seem indecorous: but in such a situation you only can help me." "Eh? Oh, certainly--h'm, h'm!--" The Doctor adjusted his glasses and began to read in a low mumbling voice. By and by he paused, then slowly looked up with pained, incredulous eyes. "This is some horrible dream!" he groaned and, feeling his way to the Major's armchair, sank into it heavily. "He swoons!" exclaimed Miss Marty. "One moment--a glassful of the Fra Angelico!" She ran to the cupboard, found decanter and glasses, poured out a dose and came hurrying back with it. He declined it, waving her off with a feeble motion of the hand. She appealed to Mr. Basket. "Will _you_, sir?" Mr. Basket confessed afterwards that for the moment, excusably perhaps, he lost his presence of mind. She had motioned to him to administer the dose. He misunderstood. Taking the glass distractedly, he drained it to the dregs, clapped a hand to his windpipe, and collapsed, sputtering, in a chair facing the Doctor. "Oh, what have I done?" wailed Miss Marty. "He deserved it!" The Doctor pulled himself together, stood erect, and, lurching forward, gripped Mr. Basket by the shoulder. "Sir, this lady is my affianced wife!" "Would you--mind--tapping me in the back?" pleaded Mr. Basket, between the catches of his breath.