advanced. She did not care to leave her husband's side. She sat with him
as he examined his books. She followed him from room to room. In the
afternoon, to the relief of everyone, some fresh guests arrived. In
consequence we had a cheerful evening. Lady Studley came down to dinner
in white from top to toe. Her dress was ethereal in texture and largely
composed of lace. I cannot describe woman's dress, but with her shadowy
figure and worn, but still lovely face, she looked spiritual. The gleam
in her large blue eyes was pathetic. Her love for her husband was
touching to behold. How soon, how very soon, they must part from each
other! Only I as a doctor knew how impossible it was to keep the lamp of
life much longer burning in the poor girl's frame.

We retired as usual to rest. Sir Henry bade me a cheerful good-night.
Lady Studley nodded to me as she left the room.

[Illustration: "'SLEEP WELL,' SHE SAID, IN A GAY VOICE."]

"Sleep well," she said, in a gay voice.

It was late the next morning when we all met round the breakfast table.
Sir Henry looked better, but Lady Studley many degrees worse, than the
night before. I wondered at her courage in retaining her post at the
head of her table. The visitors, who came in at intervals and took their
seats at the table, looked at her with wonder and compassion.

"Surely my hostess is very ill?" said a guest who sat next my side.

"Yes, but take no notice of it," I answered.

Soon after breakfast I sought Sir Henry.