He rarely has an interval of anything like consciousness, and in all the time that I have been with him has never yet recognised me; indeed, there are moments when I am inclined to fear that his brain may be permanently deranged." "God forbid!" exclaimed Adela, in a voice that was choked with tears.
"Yes, such a result as that would be indeed a sore calamity.

I have every wish to set your mind at ease, believe me, Mrs.Branston, but in John Saltram's present state I am sure it would be ill-advised for you to see him." "Of course I cannot press the question if you say that," Adela answered despondently; "but I should have been so glad if you could have allowed me to see him.

Not that I pretend to the smallest right to do so; but we were very good friends once--before my husband's death.

He has changed to me strangely since that time." Gilbert felt that it was almost cruel to keep this poor little soul in utter ignorance of the truth.

He did not consider himself at liberty to say much; but some vague word of warning might serve as a slight check upon the waste of feeling which was going on in the widow's heart.
"There may be a reason for that change, Mrs.Branston," he said.