, one at a time. Each one,
coming away from the bedside, confirmed the report of his predecessor as
to the visible improvement of the convalescent. Each one in turn, when
questioned about the eyesight, gave a sanguine report--an echo of the
patient's own confidence, real or affected, in its ultimate restoration.
He would be all right again in a week or so.

Underhand ways were resorted to of cheating despair and getting at the
pocket of Hope. Said one gentleman to the Earl--who was keeping his
counsel religiously--"He can't read small print." Whereto the Earl
replied--"Not yet awhile, but one could hardly expect that"; and felt
that he was carrying out his promise with a minimum of falsehood. Yet
his conscience wavered, because an eyesight may be unable to read small
print, and yet unable to read large print, or any print at all. Perhaps
he had better have left the first broad indisputable truth to impose on
its hearer unassisted.

Another visitor scored a success on behalf of Optimism by reporting that
the patient had smoked a cigar in defiance of medical prohibitions.
"Can't be much wrong with his eyes," said this one, "if he can smoke.
You shut your eyes, and try!" Put to the proof, this dictum received
more confirmation than it deserved, solely to secure an audience for the
flattering tales of Hope.

Much of the afternoon passed too, but without visitors. Because it would
never do, said Irene, for her brother not to be at his best when Gwen
and her mother came to pay their visit, resolved on this morning, at
what was usually the best moment of his day--about five o'clock.
Besides, he was to be got up and really dressed--not merely huddled into
clothes--and this was a fatiguing operation, never carried out in dire
earnest before. Doctor and Nurse had assented, on condition that Mr.
Torrens should be content to remain in his room, and not insist on going
downstairs. Where was the use of his doing so, with such a journey
before him to-morrow? Better surely to husband the last grain of
strength--the last inch-milligramme of power--for an eighteen-mile ride,
even with all the tonics in the world to back it! Mr. Torrens consented
to this reservation, and promised not to be rebellious.

So--in time--the hour was at hand when he would see.... No!--_not_
see--there was the sting of it!... that girl he had spoken with at
Arthur's Bridge. The vision of her in the sunset was upon him still. He
had pleaded with his sister th