opeless way for ever," he said. "We have got
to make a stand; and it's now or never."

"I know. But we must have patience a bit longer. There is a change
coming. I am certain of it. But--last night has thrown her back." Scott
spoke with melancholy conviction.

"You gave her the draught?" Eustace asked sharply.

"I gave her a sedative only; but it took no effect. In the middle of the
morning she was still in the same unsatisfactory state, and I gave her a
second sedative. After that she fell asleep, but it was not a very easy
sleep for a long time. This afternoon I saw Biddy for a moment, and she
told me she seemed much more comfortable. The poor old thing looked tired
out, and I told her to get a rest herself. She said she would lie down in
the room. If it hadn't been for this concert business, I would have
relieved her. But they couldn't muster anyone to take my place. I am just
going up now to see how she is getting on."

Scott straightened himself slowly, with a movement that was unconsciously
very weary. Eustace gave him a keen glance.

"You're wearing yourself out over her, Stumpy," he said.

"Oh, rot!" Scott smiled upon him, a light that was boyishly affectionate
in his eyes. "I'm much tougher than I look. Thanks for being decent to
me, old chap! I don't deserve it. If there are any more letters to be
written, bring them along, and I'll attend to them to-night after the
concert."

"No. Not this lot. I shall attend to them myself." Eustace got up, and
passed a hand through his arm. "You are working too hard and sleeping too
little. I'm going to take you in hand and put a stop to it."

Scott laughed. "No, no! Thanks all the same, I'm better left alone. Are
you coming to the show to-night? The beautiful Miss de Vigne is going to
sing."

Eustace looked supercilious. "Is there anything that young lady can't do,
I wonder? Her accomplishments are legion. She told me yesterday that she
could play the guitar. She can also recite, play bridge, and take cricket
scores. She is a scratch golf-player, plays a good game of tennis, rides
to hounds, and visits the poor. And that is by no means a complete list.
I don't wonder that she gives the little brown girl indigestion. Her
perfection is almost nauseating at times."

Scott laughed again. It was a relief to have diverted his brother's
attention from more personal subjects. "She ought to suit you rather
well," he observed. "You are something of the perfect knight your