memory never any better than I have found it to-day? He has been
trying to speak to me----"

"Of something which happened before he was taken ill?" asked the
assistant, observing that I hesitated.

"Yes."

"His memory of events, at that past time, is hopelessly enfeebled," said
Ezra Jennings. "It is almost to be deplored, poor fellow, that even
the wreck of it remains. While he remembers dimly plans that he
formed--things, here and there, that he had to say or do before his
illness--he is perfectly incapable of recalling what the plans were, or
what the thing was that he had to say or do. He is painfully conscious
of his own deficiency, and painfully anxious, as you must have seen, to
hide it from observation. If he could only have recovered in a complete
state of oblivion as to the past, he would have been a happier man.
Perhaps we should all be happier," he added, with a sad smile, "if we
could but completely forget!"

"There are some events surely in all men's lives," I replied, "the
memory of which they would be unwilling entirely to lose?"

"That is, I hope, to be said of most men, Mr. Blake. I am afraid it
cannot truly be said of ALL. Have you any reason to suppose that the
lost remembrance which Mr. Candy tried to recover--while you were
speaking to him just now--was a remembrance which it was important to
YOU that he should recall?"

In saying those words, he had touched, of his own accord, on the very
point upon which I was anxious to consult him. The interest I felt in
this strange man had impelled me, in the first instance, to give him the
opportunity of speaking to me; reserving what I might have to say, on my
side, in relation to his employer, until I was first satisfied that he
was a person in whose delicacy and discretion I could trust. The little
that he had said, thus far, had been sufficient to convince me that I
was speaking to a gentleman. He had what I may venture to describe as
the UNSOUGHT SELF-POSSESSION, which is a sure sign of good breeding, not
in England only, but everywhere else in the civilised world. Whatever
the object which he had in view, in putting the question that he had
just addressed to me, I felt no doubt that I was justified--so far--in
answering him without reserve.

"I believe I have a strong interest," I said, "in tracing the lost
remembrance which Mr. Candy was unable to recall. May I ask whether you
can suggest to me any method by which I might assist his memory?"