Dr. Clifford of Lobourne was the medical attendant, who, with
head-shaking, and gathering of lips, and reminiscences of ancient
arguments, guaranteed to do all that leech could do in the matter. The
old doctor did admit that Richard's constitution was admirable, and
answered to his prescriptions like a piano to the musician. "But," he
said at a family consultation, for Sir Austin had told him how it stood
with the young man, "drugs are not much in cases of this sort. Change!
That's what's wanted, and as soon as may be. Distraction! He ought to
see the world, and know what he is made of. It's no use my talking, I
know," added the doctor.

"On the contrary," said Sir Austin, "I am quite of your persuasion. And
the world he shall see--now."

"We have dipped him in Styx, you know, doctor," Adrian remarked.

"But, doctor," said Lady Blandish, "have you known a case of this sort
before."

"Never, my lady," said the doctor, "they're not common in these parts.
Country people are tolerably healthy-minded."

"But people--and country people--have died for love, doctor?"

The doctor had not met any of them.

"Men, or women?" inquired the baronet.

Lady Blandish believed mostly women.

"Ask the doctor whether they were healthy-minded women," said the
baronet. "No! you are both looking at the wrong end. Between a
highly-cultured being, and an emotionless animal, there is all the
difference in the world. But of the two, the doctor is nearer the truth.
The healthy nature is pretty safe. If he allowed for organization he
would be right altogether. To feel, but not to feel to excess, that is
the problem."

"If I can't have the one I chose,
To some fresh maid I will propose,"

Adrian hummed a country ballad.

CHAPTER XXIV

When the young Experiment again knew the hours that rolled him onward,
he was in his own room at Raynham. Nothing had changed: only a strong
fist had knocked him down and stunned him, and he opened his eyes to a
grey world: he had forgotten what he lived for. He was weak and
thin, and with a pale memory of things. His functions were the same,
everything surrounding him was the same: he looked upon the old blue
hills, the far-lying fallows, the river, and the woods: he knew them,
they seemed to have lost recollection of him. Nor could he find in
familiar human faces the secret of intimacy of heretofore. They were the
same faces: they nodded and smiled to him. What was lost he could not