ou see, Simpson is the chap who shaves
me, and gets me into my clothes, and takes me about; and, though it
will always be a trial, it is a trial to which I am growing accustomed.
You might put it thus: Simpson is eyes to my body; Miss Gray is vision
to my mind. Simpson's is the only touch which cores to me in the
darkness. Do you know, Miss Gray has never touched me,--not even to
shake hands. I am awfully glad of this. I will tell you why presently,
if I may. It makes her just a MIND and VOICE to me, and nothing more;
but a wonderfully kind and helpful voice. I feel as if I could not live
without her."

Garth rang the bell and Simpson appeared.

"Take Sir Deryck to his room; and he will tell you what time he would
like breakfast. And when you have seen to it all, Simpson, I will go
out for a turn. Then I shall be free, Brand, when you are. But do not
give me any more time this morning if you ought to be resting, or out
on the moors having a holiday from minds and men."

The doctor tubbed and got into his knickerbockers and an old Norfolk
jacket; then found his way to the dining-room, and did full justice to
an excellent breakfast. He was still pondering the problem of Jane, and
at the same time wondering in another compartment of his mind in what
sort of machine old Margery made her excellent coffee, when that good
lady appeared, enveloped in an air of mystery, and the doctor
immediately propounded the question.

"A jug," said old Margery. "And would you be coming with me, Sir
Deryck,--and softly, whenever you have finished your breakfast?"

"Softly," said Margery again, as they crossed the hall, the doctor's
tall figure closely following in her portly wake. After mounting a few
stairs she turned to whisper impressively: "It is not what ye make it
IN; it is HOW ye make it." She ascended a few more steps, then turned
to say: "It all hangs upon the word FRESH," and went on mounting.
"Freshly roasted--freshly ground--water--freshly-boiled--" said old
Margery, reaching the topmost stair somewhat breathless; then turning,
bustled along a rather dark passage, thickly carpeted, and hung with
old armour and pictures.

"Where are we going, Mistress Margery?" asked the doctor, adapting his
stride to her trot--one to two.

"You will be seeing whenever we get there, Sir Deryck," said Margery.
"And never touch it with metal, Sir Deryck. Pop it into an earthenware
jug, pour your boiling water straight upon it, stir it with a