ing to the difficulty with
which the patient had been persuaded to remain in bed. But she had the
whip-hand of him there, because he couldn't find his clothes without her
help. This gives the Earl an idea of the condition of the patient's
eyesight beyond his previous concept of its infirmities. He has been
misled by its apparent soundness--for no one would have guessed the
truth from outward seeming--and the nurse's accident of speech rouses
his curiosity.

"Ah, by-the-by," he says, "I was just going to ask." Which is not
strictly true, but apology to himself for his own neglect, "How _are_
the eyes?"

"Oh, the eyes are right enough," says the patient. He goes on to explain
that they are no inconvenience whatever so long as he keeps them shut.
It is only when he opens them that he notices their defect; which is,
briefly, that he can't see with them. His lordship seems to feel that
eyes so conditioned are hardly satisfactory. It is really new knowledge
to him, and he accepts it restlessly. He spreads his fingers out before
the deceptive orbs that look so clear, showing indeed no defect but a
kind of uncertainty; or rather perhaps a too great stillness as though
always content with the object in front of them. "What do you see now?"
he asks in a nervous voice.

"Something dark between me and the light."

"Is that all? Can't you see what it is?"

"A book." A mere guess based on the known predilections of the
questioner.

"Oh dear!" says the Earl. "It was my hand." He sees that the nurse is
signalling with headshakes and soundless lip-words, but has not presence
of mind to catch her meaning.

The other seems to feel his speech apologetically, as though it were his
own fault. "I see better later in the day," he says. Which may be true
or not.

The nurse's signalling tells, and the questioner runs into an opposite
extreme. "One is like that in the morning sometimes," says he absurdly,
but meaning well. He is not an Earl who would be of much use in a
hospital for the treatment of nervous disorders. However, having grasped
the situation he shows tact, changing the conversation to the heat of
the weather and the probable earliness of the crops. No one should ever
_show_ tact. He will only be caught _flagrante delicto_. Mr. Torrens is
perfectly well aware of what is occurring; and, when he lies still and
unresponsive with his eyes closed, is not really resting after exertion,
which is the nurse's interpretation of the