The simple-minded little doctor gave all credence to what Tor told him. Suspicion was no part of his nature. He looked at everything from a psychological and professional point of view, and was delighted to get hold of any patient whose symptoms might give him a clearer insight into his favourite subject. Dr. Schneeberger had a sister Gretchen, as kind-hearted and simple-minded as himself, and given over, in true German fashion, to household cares and domestic management. She was highly prepossessed in favour of the distinguished-looking young Englishman and his helpless friend, and made many protestations as to the care the latter should receive whilst under their roof. Tor’s mind was relieved of all fear on Phil’s account, feeling confident that he would be well looked after, and only dismayed by the length of time which might possibly ensue before he should recover sufficiently to assume his own name and position, and free Tor from the _rôle_ he had assumed. Tor dined with the doctor and his sister, and was put through quite a catechism by the innocently-inquisitive Gretchen, as to his history and antecedents, and his prospective visit to England. It seemed ungracious to be too reserved towards those who had shown him kindness and consideration; so Tor told the little German Hausfrau how he had come into a property in the west of England, and had to go over to take possession, and to see his relatives, from whom he had long been absent. He did not say more than was needful, feeling strange in his adopted character, and rather fearful of making a slip; but one thing led to another, one question to many more, and before they rose from table Tor felt that he was indeed Philip Debenham, and that no drawing back was possible now. ‘I did not mean to say so much,’ he mused, as he went slowly upstairs to Phil’s room; ‘but, after all, what does it matter? It is good practice. A slip here would matter little; over there it might be fatal. Confound that fellow! Why can’t he wake up and act for himself? Suppose he lies like that for months? a devil of a mess I may have got myself into by that time! Was I a great fool ever to make this attempt? If that Belassis wasn’t such an old scoundrel, and didn’t lead that poor girl such a life, I don’t suppose I should ever have thought of such a thing. Well, I’m in for it now; I can’t draw back; I must go through with it till Phil comes to himself, and then I can vanish like Mephistopheles, and never appear again. I think I can manage to annoy Uncle Belassis more than a little before I abdicate in favour of Phil. Uncle Belassis, I have some very strong suspicions as to your honesty and integrity. I think you and I will enjoy some private conversations together which poor old easy-going Phil might have spared you.’