sunken and his complexion bloodless. His knees
gave under him when he walked; and once when passing out of his
lecture-room he fell and had to be assisted to his carriage.

This was just before the end of the session and soon after the holidays
commenced the professors who still remained in Birchespool were shocked
to hear that their brother of the chair of physiology had sunk so low
that no hopes could be entertained of his recovery. Two eminent
physicians had consulted over his case without being able to give a
name to the affection from which he suffered. A steadily decreasing
vitality appeared to be the only symptom--a bodily weakness which left
the mind unclouded. He was much interested himself in his own case,
and made notes of his subjective sensations as an aid to diagnosis. Of
his approaching end he spoke in his usual unemotional and somewhat
pedantic fashion. "It is the assertion," he said, "of the liberty of
the individual cell as opposed to the cell-commune. It is the
dissolution of a co-operative society. The process is one of great
interest."

And so one grey morning his co-operative society dissolved. Very
quietly and softly he sank into his eternal sleep. His two physicians
felt some slight embarrassment when called upon to fill in his
certificate.

"It is difficult to give it a name," said one.

"Very," said the other.

"If he were not such an unemotional man, I should have said that he had
died from some sudden nervous shock--from, in fact, what the vulgar
would call a broken heart."

"I don't think poor Grey was that sort of a man at all."

"Let us call it cardiac, anyhow," said the older physician.

So they did so.

THE CASE OF LADY SANNOX.

The relations between Douglas Stone and the notorious Lady Sannox were
very well known both among the fashionable circles of which she was a
brilliant member, and the scientific bodies which numbered him among
their most illustrious confreres. There was naturally, therefore, a
very widespread interest when it was announced one morning that the
lady had absolutely and for ever taken the veil, and that the world
would see her no more. When, at the very tail of this rumour, there
came the assurance that the celebrated operating surgeon, the man of
steel nerves, had been found in the morning by his valet, seated on one
side of his bed, smiling pleasantly upon the universe, with both legs
jammed into one side of his breeches and his grea