Bishop's Library. One of its windows is visible on the first floor to
the left of the porch.]

I went away after a little, feeling very much reassured. He did not give
the impression of being gravely ill at all, he was so entirely himself.
I wrote a few letters and then returned, while he ate his luncheon, a
baked apple--but this was painful to him and he soon desisted. He talked
again a little, with the same liveliness, but as he began to be drowsy,
I left him again.

Dr. Bradley soon came to me, and confessed he felt anxious. "It may be a
long and critical business," he said. "If he can maintain his strength
like this for several days, he may turn the corner--he is a difficult
patient. He is not afraid, but he is excitable, and is always asking for
relief and suggesting remedies." I said something about summoning the
others. "On no account," he said. "It would give him the one impression
we must try to avoid--much depends upon his own hopefulness."

I went back to my hotel, slumbered over a book, went in for a little to
the cathedral service, and came back about five o'clock. The nurse was
not in the room at the moment. Hugh said a few words to me, but had a
sudden attack of faintness. I gave him a little whisky at his own
request, the doctor was fetched, and there followed a very anxious hour,
while various remedies were tried, and eventually oxygen revived him. He
laid his head down on the pillow, smiled at me, and said, "Oh, what
bliss! I feel absolutely comfortable--it's wonderful."

The doctor beckoned me out, and told me that I had better move my things
across to the house and sleep there. "I don't like the look of things
at all," he said; "your place is certainly here." He added that we had