"Come, come, this will not do," continued the Doctor. "I don't want to have you upon my hands as a patient. Now, look here; I promise you that all will come right, and it is not the physic-monger speaking now, but your father's friend." The Major darted a grateful look at the speaker, while Dinah did not stir, but sat hardly hearing him, alone with her despair. "They do not know all," she said to herself; "they do not know all." "You see, my dear," continued the Doctor, "he is rapidly mending, and he knows us all, and speaks sensibly; but he is not quite _compos mentis_ yet his brain had a nasty shock, from which it is recovering, but it must have time. You feel it bitterly, of course, but it is a natural, though only temporary, outcome of this ailment. Over and over again we doctors find that the one the invalid loves best--wife, mother, betrothed--is the one against whom he takes an unaccountable dislike, and in endless cases this is the one who has devoted herself to constant nursing. Ah, they re an ungrateful lot, patients, when they are a bit off their heads. I had one to whom I was administering nothing but beef tea, and water just flavoured with syrup of aurantia--orange and sugar, you know. Well, that ruffian swore that I was slowly poisoning him." "But Reed has quite recovered his senses," said the Major uneasily; "it is six weeks to-day since he turned like this." "He has not quite recovered his senses, or he would be upon his knees, asking pardon of an angel, sir. No, my dear, I'm not flattering you, for if ever woman displayed devotion and love for sinful man, you have done so for my boy Clive. Come, promise me that you will try and hold up, for your father's sake. Yes, and Clive's. He is rapidly growing stronger, but he wants your help to console him for his losses. That is what we want to get off his brain. Once he can bear that philosophically all will be well." The Doctor's long speeches were cut short by a visitor in the shape of Wrigley, who was shown in by Martha, Dinah at the same moment escaping to her room, where, on approaching the window, she became aware of the fact that Jessop had accompanied the visitor. He was waiting at the bottom of the garden down by the river, and she shrank away in horror and dread as she trembled lest Clive should see him and it might bring on a fresh attack. For a few moments she thought of going to Clive's room and telling him. But the dread of meeting his cruel searching eyes, and experiencing another of those shrinking looks of horror and disgust, kept her away, and she sank wearily into a chair, shivering, and with the feeling of utter despair growing upon her more and more. Meanwhile a scene was taking place in the little dining-room below, where the Major had made a sign toward a chair. "Thank you," said Wrigley. "I will not detain you long." "What is it, sir? Sturgess worse?" said the Doctor.