saw me standing beside him, and then----"
The doctor cleared his throat and steadied his voice, which was shaking
with emotion--"'Hullo, Rob!' he said. It was only a whisper, but I
tell you the old boyhood's name nearly did for me. 'Have I been
dreaming, or was Phil here?'

"'Yes, she was here,' I answered as lightly as I could.

"'Will she come?' he asked eagerly.

"'She will come,' I said. 'But you have been ill, and you must get a
bit stronger first.'"

The doctor paused, and for a few moments there was silence, broken only
by the words he was muttering under his breath, "Hullo, Rob! Hullo,
Rob!"

"May I ask a question?" said Philippa at last.

"Ask as many as you like," he replied quickly.

"Is his--condition--the state he has been in for all these years, I
mean--is it--was it the result of the accident, or----"

"I think I know what you want to say. You want to know to what extent
his long illness was due to the disappointment he suffered?"

She nodded.

"It is very difficult to say; but this I know, that had he been at the
time of the accident a man of good physique--which he undoubtedly
was--and had there been no adverse circumstances to complicate the
case, he would have recovered, and in course of time have been as sound
in brain as you or I. But quiet of mind, peace of mind, contentment,
are absolutely essential to recovery in such cases, and these were
exactly what he lacked. He fretted incessantly for the presence of the
woman he cared for so deeply--this made rest impossible, and it became
an obsession, a fixed idea, and his brain could not stand the strain.
This is hardly a technical explanation, but I want to put it in such a
way that you can understand."

"Would nothing have done him any good?" asked Philippa. "No treatment,
or operation?"

"All that has been possible in the way of treatment has been carried
out, but operation was out of the question; and, indeed, if it had been
deemed advisable Lady Louisa would never have agreed to it. She said,
and there was truth in her argument, that all the surgeons in the world
could not restore him what he missed and craved for. And now--at
last--it seems that a miracle has been performed, and you are here to
save him."

"What do you want me to do?" she asked in a low voice.

"I want you to go to him, to be with him occasionally, to content him,
to give him a little happiness--for all the years he has missed--a
little happiness--until