"Oh! my dear," she cried presently, raising her face, and looking up at him through tear-blurred eyes, "you can't imagine... He's an old man, and childish. He doesn't seem to remember--anything. He was just glad to see me... And all the time I was only conscious of an eagerness, a horrible eagerness, to get away,--to run from the room. If it's going to be like that always--" "It won't," he interposed quietly. "You've had a shock, I wish now I had persuaded you not to come. Sit down, Pamela. Shall I ask for anything for you?" "No," she said, "I don't want any one to come in here. I'm all unnerved. I don't know how I am going through with this." "Then don't go through with it," he said. "Chuck it. It's not too late now." He led her to a chair and put her into it. "What's the use of making yourself miserable, like this?" he said. She looked at him in consternation, as he stood over her and made this astounding suggestion in the quiet ordinary tones of a man offering quite simple, commonplace advice. He met her gaze steadily. "You've tried," he said. "It's not your fault if the job is too big for your undertaking. I've felt all along that you didn't appreciate fully the difficulty of the task. Give in, Pamela, and admit yourself beaten." "Give in _now_?" she cried. "Why not?" he said. She leaned back in the chair, her face paling; and for a second or so neither spoke. Dare remained waiting with a certain confidence for her answer. It occurred to him that she knew herself to be beaten. All the fight was gone out of her. She had the air of a creature trapped and frantically seeking a way of escape. If he pointed the way in all probability she would take it. What decision she came to, or if she came to any decision, he had no means then of knowing. While he waited for her to speak the door of the room opened, and the matron appeared, and stood on the threshold, surveying the scene with manifest surprise. Dare glanced over his shoulder at her, but he did not move. "Mrs Arnott is feeling a little upset," he said. She came forward quickly. "Shall I fetch anything?--water?" "I don't think that is necessary," he replied. And Pamela sat up with a quickly uttered protest. "It is nothing," she said. "Just shock. I wasn't prepared to see such a change. I've never seen any one ill,--really ill, like that, before. I'm all right now. It was stupid of me to be so foolish. But," she looked at the matron piteously, with quivering lips, "he is so altered," she said pathetically. "He is quite old." The matron felt puzzled. In her long experience of sickness she had never known the patient's appearance to be the chief concern of the relatives. She felt a little unsympathetic towards Mrs Arnott's attitude.