LIGHTS AND SHADOWS Egremont's face, it was true, showed that things were not altogether well with him.

It was not ill-health, but mental restlessness, which expressed itself in the lines of his forehead and the diminished brightness of his eyes.

During the last two months of the year he had felt a constant need of help, and help such as would alone stead him he could not find.
It was no mere failing of purpose.

He prepared his lectures as thoroughly as ever, and delivered them with no less zeal than in the first weeks; indeed, if anything, his energy grew, for, since his nearer acquaintance with Gilbert Grail, the latter's face before him was always an incentive.

There was much to discourage him.