----"

"Until?"

"Until he--dies--or----"

"Or?"

"We can't think of the future; we must just go on from day to day. I
know it is much to ask of you, a stranger, but I have no choice but to
ask it. Think it over. For a day or two I can keep him quiet, but not
for longer. Take a day or two to decide."

"I will think it over. I cannot decide now--indeed, indeed I cannot,"
said Philippa earnestly. "It is not that my heart is not wrung with
pity. It is the most pitiful thing I ever heard of; and if I--a
stranger, as you truly say--feel it pitiful, what must it be to you who
have known him always?"

Tears were standing in her eyes. Apart from the tragedy there was
something very touching in this man's affection and sorrow for his
friend. Neither gruffness of tone nor shortness of manner could
disguise the strength of the underlying feeling.

"What has his life been?" she asked. "What has he done?"

"Waited," answered the doctor shortly. "Just waited. Nothing more nor
less. He has occupied himself a little for a few moments at a time.
He has read, but does not remember what he reads, and the same book
serves him over and over again. He has painted a little, but always
the same thing--a woman's face--sketchy--unfinished, but recognisable;
and then thrown aside to commence another--but always the same face.
But never for one day in all these years has he forgotten the violets."

"What violets?"

"It was his custom during their short engagement to give her a bunch of
violets every morning. They were her favourite flower, and he took a
good deal of trouble to procure them, and when, after his accident, the
season for their blooming passed, and there were none, it distressed
him so terribly that his mother, Lady Louisa, insured that there should
be a constant supply for him.

"You will see the long line of glass lights in the kitchen garden.
These are exclusively for his violets. He always asks for them, and
places them in a vase of water in front of her portrait. A little
thing, but very pathetic, isn't it?"

"Does he speak?"

"Oh yes. He has always received me with some polite remark, as if I
were a perfect stranger whom he had never seen before, but he always
seemed in a hurry to get rid of me. Sometimes he would excuse his
haste by saying he was expecting a visitor. It was just the same when
he saw Mrs. Goodman. He was perfectly civil, but evidently impatient
of anything or any one who di