for myself and for her."
"Then you are not well?" I asked.
"Well!" he answered, with almost a shout. "Good God, no! I think that I am going mad. I know--I know that unless relief soon comes I shall die or become a raving maniac."
"No, nothing of the kind," I answered, soothingly; "you probably want change. This is a fine old house, but dull, no doubt, in winter. Why don't you go away?--to the Riviera, or some other place where there is plenty of sunshine? Why do you stay here? The air of this place is too damp to be good for either you or your wife."
Sir Henry sat silent for a moment, then he said, in a terse voice:--
"Perhaps you will advise me what to do after you know the nature of the malady which afflicts me. First of all, however, I wish to speak of my wife."
"I am ready to listen," I replied.
"You see," he continued, "that she is very delicate?"
"Yes," I replied; "to be frank with you, I should say that Lady Studley was consumptive."