"Lady Scarlett," he said coldly, "you are excited now, and you have said several things that perhaps would have been as well left unsaid. I will not reply to them; for I agree with you that the question of Sir James Scarlett's health and restoration is one that should sweep away all petty differences. I trust that I have always treated my poor friend's wife with the greatest respect and deference, and that I always shall." "Yes, yes," replied Lady Scarlett sadly; "deference and respect;" and as she gazed at him, there was a pained and wistful look in her suffused eyes that seemed to make him hesitate for the moment; but as she added, rather bitterly--"that is all," the way to his heart, that was beginning to open a little, reclosed, and he said sternly: "No; I feel certain that it would be far better that I should not monopolise the treatment of my friend's case, and that--" "Hush!" exclaimed Lady Scarlett quickly, for the door opened, and the object of their conversation, looking thin, pale, and with a scared and anxious expression on his countenance, came quickly into the room. "Ah, Jack, here you are, then!" he exclaimed. "I've been looking for you everywhere. Here, come and sit and talk to me." "All right," said the doctor, in his blunt way. "What do you say to having out the ponies and giving me a drive?" "Drive?--a drive?" repeated Scarlett uneasily. "No, no. It is not fine enough." "Lovely, my dear fellow, as soon as you get outside." "No; not to-day, Jack. Don't ask me," said Scarlett excitedly, as his wife sat down and took up a piece of work. "The ponies are too fresh. They've done nothing lately, and one of them has developed a frightfully vicious temper. I shall have to sell them." "Let's go on the water, then; a row would do you good." Lady Scarlett darted an imploring look at the doctor; but if intended to stay his speech it came too late. "Row? No!" said Scarlett with a shudder. "I never go on the water now. My left wrist is so weak, I am afraid I have somehow sprained one of the tendons. Don't ask me to row." Lady Scarlett darted a second imploring look at the doctor, and he read it, as it seemed to him, to say: "Pray, don't allude to the water;" but it was part of his endeavour to probe his friend's mental wound to the quick, and he went on: "Laziness, you sybaritish old humbug! Very well, then; I'll give up the rowing, and we'll have the punt, and go and fish." "Impossible; the water is too thick, and I don't think there are any baits ready." "How tiresome!" said the doctor. "I had made up my mind for a try at the barbel before I went back." "Before you went back?" cried Scarlett excitedly; and he caught his friend by the arm--"before you went back! What do you mean?" "Mean, old fellow? Why, before I went back to London."