ondition. If you have
any influence with her, I beg you to persuade her to refuse herself to
the endless busybodies who want to hear her account of what happened.
She won't have a trained nurse, but there ought to be someone on
guard--a human watchdog warranted to snarl and bite!"

"Do you think she ought to go away from London?" asked Coxeter in a low
voice.

"No, I don't think that--at least not for the present," the medical man
frowned thoughtfully. "What she wants is to be taken out of herself. If
I could prescribe what I believe would be the best thing for her, I
should advise that she go away to some other part of London with someone
who will never speak to her of what happened, and yet who will always
listen to her when she wants to talk about it--some sensible,
commonplace person who could distract her mind without tiring her, and
who would make her do things she has never done before. If she was an
ordinary smart lady, I should prescribe philanthropy"--he made a slight
grimace--"make her go and see some of my poorer patients--come into
contact with a little _real_ trouble. But that would be no change to
Mrs. Archdale. No; what she wants is someone who will force her to be
selfish--who will take her up the Monument one day, and to a music-hall
the next, motor her out to Richmond Park, make her take a good long
walk, and then sit by the sofa and hold her hand if she feels like
crying----" He stopped, a little ashamed of his energy.

"Thank you," said Coxeter very seriously, "I'm much obliged to you for
telling me this. I can see the sense of what you say."

"You know, in spite of her quiet manner, Mrs. Archdale's a nervous,
sensitive woman"--the doctor was looking narrowly at Coxeter as he
spoke.

"She was perfectly calm and--and very brave at the time----"

"That means nothing! Pluck's not a matter of nerve--it ought to be, but
it isn't! But I admit you're a remarkable example of the presence of the
one coupled with the absence of the other. You don't seem a penny the
worse, and yet it must have been a very terrible experience."

"You see, it came at the end of my holiday," said Coxeter gravely, "and,
as a matter of fact"--he hesitated--"I feel quite well, in fact,
remarkably well. Do you see any objection to my calling again, I mean
to-day, on Mrs. Archdale? I might put what you have just said before
her."

"Yes, do! Do that by all means! Seeing how well you have come through
it"--the doctor could not