I should have sent him to the infirmary, where he would be under Dr.Hutchinson's care; but, of course, he will be better off in your private hospital." And one day in the following week, Dr.Belton took home with him the invalid, whose case he had already described to his wife and children, so that when the stooping figure emerged from the carriage leaning heavily on the arm of the nurse who accompanied him, he was received with kindness and warmth, Mrs.Belton herself meeting him with outstretched hands of welcome.
"Very glad to see you, Mr.Williams.

You will soon get better here, I think." Cardo looked at her with no intelligence in his eyes.

"Yes, thank you," was all he said, as he passed with his nurse into the bright, cosy room relegated to the use of the patients, who were so fortunate, or so unfortunate as to arouse more than usual interest in Dr.Belton's mind.
"Now, nurse," said the doctor, "give him a good tea, and a little of that cold quail, and after tea I will come and have a chat with him." Later on in the evening he kept his word and found Cardo sunk in the depths of an arm-chair, watching with lack-lustre eyes, while the Dr.'s two boys tried their skill at a game of bagatelle.
"Well, Williams, and how are you now?
tired, eh ?" he asked.
"Yes," said Cardo, turning his eyes upon the doctor with a look of bewilderment, which reminded him of the look of dumb inquiry in the eyes of a troubled dog.
"You will like this better than the hospital I am sure.

Do you love children ?" "No," was Cardo's laconic reply, at which the doctor smiled.
He tried many subjects but failed to get any further answer than "yes" or "no." Most men would have been discouraged when several weeks passed over, and still his patient showed very little signs of improvement.

It is true, now he would answer more at length, but he was never heard to volunteer a remark, though he sat for hours in what looked like a "brown study," in which probably only indistinct forms and fantastic shapes passed before his mind's eye.