h
what he used to be. He used to eat nothing and then suddenly he began
to eat something enormous--and then he stopped again all at once and
the meals were sent back just as they used to be. You never knew, sir,
perhaps, that out of doors he never would let himself be taken. The
things we've gone through to get him to go out in his chair would leave
a body trembling like a leaf. He'd throw himself into such a state
that Dr. Craven said he couldn't be responsible for forcing him. Well,
sir, just without warning--not long after one of his worst tantrums he
suddenly insisted on being taken out every day by Miss Mary and Susan
Sowerby's boy Dickon that could push his chair. He took a fancy to
both Miss Mary and Dickon, and Dickon brought his tame animals, and, if
you'll credit it, sir, out of doors he will stay from morning until
night."

"How does he look?" was the next question.

"If he took his food natural, sir, you'd think he was putting on
flesh--but we're afraid it may be a sort of bloat. He laughs sometimes
in a queer way when he's alone with Miss Mary. He never used to laugh
at all. Dr. Craven is coming to see you at once, if you'll allow him.
He never was as puzzled in his life."

"Where is Master Colin now?" Mr. Craven asked.

"In the garden, sir. He's always in the garden--though not a human
creature is allowed to go near for fear they'll look at him."

Mr. Craven scarcely heard her last words.

"In the garden," he said, and after he had sent Mrs. Medlock away he
stood and repeated it again and again. "In the garden!"

He had to make an effort to bring himself back to the place he was
standing in and when he felt he was on earth again he turned and went
out of the room. He took his way, as Mary had done, through the door
in the shrubbery and among the laurels and the fountain beds. The
fountain was playing now and was encircled by beds of brilliant autumn
flowers. He crossed the lawn and turned into the Long Walk by the
ivied walls. He did not walk quickly, but slowly, and his eyes were on
the path. He felt as if he were being drawn back to the place he had
so long forsaken, and he did not know why. As he drew near to it his
step became still more slow. He knew where the door was even though
the ivy hung thick over it--but he did not know exactly where it
lay--that buried key.

So he stopped and stood still, looking about him, and almost the moment
after he had paused he started and l