u were never coming! Hardly worth beginning at all."
If I was early, his greeting was, "I was just having a nap! Haven't
closed my eyes since two this morning, and now you have roused me up!"
If I read a book, he preferred a newspaper. If I read a newspaper, it
crackled, and worried his head. If I made a remark, he disagreed; if I
was silent, "Was there _no_ news?--_nothing_ going on to tell a poor
wretch tied to his bed?" If I said he looked better, he would have me
to know that nurses and doctors alike were deluding him with lies. He
knew for a fact that he was dying fast. If I said he looked tired, he
felt better than he had done all the week. It was impossible to please
him--impossible to win a smile or a gracious word. Never have I met a
human being so twisted and warped in mind. To go into his room is like
entering a black tunnel--one leaves it with the feeling of breaking
bonds. The matron of the Home is a brisk, capable woman, with a face
full of kindly strength; we generally met and exchanged a few words on
stairs or landing, and it was easy to see that her patience was wearing
thin. There came a day when she met me with a red face, beckoned me
into her private room, and poured forth a stream of angry confidences.

"I really must speak to some one about Mr Travers. His poor wife has
enough to bear. I can't trouble her. The man is insufferable; he
upsets the whole house. His nurse has just been to me in tears.
Nothing will please him. He rings his bell all day, and half the night,
and for nothing--literally nothing! Just an excuse to give trouble. We
have honestly done our best--more than our best. With such a patient it
is easier to give in than to protest, but I'm beginning to think we've
been wrong. He is not getting on as quickly as he should. I believe
his temper is keeping him back."

"I'm sure of it! You are an expert at healing, and I'm a beginner, but
I'm a great believer in the power of the mind. He is poisoning
himself."

"He is poisoning every one else! I can't submit to have my whole house
upset. If he were fit to be moved, he should be out of it to-day. It's
all I can do to be civil, and not blaze out, and tell him what I think!"

"I shouldn't try!"

"What?" She looked at me sharply. "Ah! You agree? You feel the same?
You think I dare?"

"I do. I go a step further, and say it's your duty. He is a bully, and
probably no one has ever dared to show him how he app