I saw that she had--so to speak--ruled me out of her life. Perhaps when I first came to that unhappy house nearly a year ago she had looked to me as a possible helper, had weighed me in the balance, and had found me wanting. I was cut to the heart, for deep down, at the bottom of my mind I saw at last, that I _had_ failed her. She might be, she probably was, slightly deranged, but, nevertheless, she had timidly, obscurely sought my aid, and had found no help in me. M. died the following evening, after trying to die throughout the whole day. I never left him until, at last, late at night, he laid down his courage, having no further need of it, and reached the end of his ordeal. Next morning after breakfast I went as usual to the Robinson's house, and, according to custom, was shown into the drawing-room. Now that M. was out of his agony my mind reverted to Blanche. My wife and children were going to the seaside, and my wife had eagerly agreed to take Blanche with her, if she could be spared. "But they won't let her go," said the little woman. "They must if I say it's necessary," I said with professional dignity. I wondered as I waited in the immense Robinson drawing-room how best I could introduce the subject. Half involuntarily I approached the aquarium. As I drew near my foot caught on something slippery and stiff. I looked down, and saw it was the dead body of the goldfish on the carpet. I picked it up, and was staring at it when Mrs. Robinson came in. She gave a cry when she saw it, and wrung her hands. "Put him back in the water," she shrieked. "He may be still alive." I put him back into his cell, but it had no longer any power over that poor captive. "Goldy" floated grotesque and upside down on the surface of the water. His release had come. "He must have jumped out to get to me when I was not there," sobbed Mrs. Robinson, the easy tears coursing down her fat cheeks. "My poor faithful loving little pet. But someone has taken the wire off the aquarium. Who could have been so wicked? Downright cruel I call it." The wire, true enough, had been unhooked, and was laid among the hyacinths on the water's edge. "Where is Blanche?" I asked. "I want to talk to you about her. I do not think she is well, and I should advise--" "That was just what I was going to tell you when I came in and saw that poor little darling dead in your hand. I am dreadfully worried about Blanche. She has been out all night. She hasn't come in yet." "Out all night?" A vague trouble seized me.