"It has _not_ been recovered," I wrote early the next day, "and I'm moreover much troubled about our friend.

He came back from Bigwood with a chill and, being allowed to have a fire in his room, lay down a while before dinner.

I tried to send him to bed and indeed thought I had put him in the way of it; but after I had gone to dress Mrs.Wimbush came up to see him, with the inevitable result that when I returned I found him under arms and flushed and feverish, though decorated with the rare flower she had brought him for his button-hole.

He came down to dinner, but Lady Augusta Minch was very shy of him.

To-day he's in great pain, and the advent of ces dames--I mean of Guy Walsingham and Dora Forbes--doesn't at all console me.