re just going out, sir," said the man, "and she
saw the carriage at the door; but she begged to see you, if only for two
minutes. This is her card."

I read the words, "Lady Studley."

"Show her in," I said, hastily, and the next moment a tall,
slightly-made, fair-haired girl entered the room.

She looked very young, scarcely more than twenty, and I could hardly
believe that she was, what her card indicated, a married woman.

The colour rushed into her cheeks as she held out her hand to me. I
motioned her to a chair, and then asked her what I could do for her.

"Oh, you can help me," she said, clasping her hands and speaking in a
slightly theatrical manner. "My husband, Sir Henry Studley, is very
unwell, and I want you to come to see him--can you?--will you?"

"With pleasure," I replied. "Where do you live?"

"At Studley Grange, in Wiltshire. Don't you know our place?"

"I daresay I ought to know it," I replied, "although at the present
moment I can't recall the name. You want me to come to see your husband.
I presume you wish me to have a consultation with his medical
attendant?"

"No, no, not at all. The fact is, Sir Henry has not got a medical
attendant. He dislikes doctors, and won't see one. I want you to come
and stay with us for a week or so. I have heard of you through mutual
friends--the Onslows. I know you can effect remarkable cures, and you
have a great deal of tact. But you can't possibly do anything for my
husband unless you are willing to stay in the house and to notice his
symptoms."

[Illustration: "LADY STUDLEY SPOKE WITH GREAT EMPHASIS."]

Lady Studley spoke with great emphasis and earnestness. Her long,
slender hands were clasped tightly together. She had drawn off her
gloves and was bending forward in her chair. Her big, childish, and
somewhat restless blue eyes were fixed imploringly on my face.

"I love my husband," she said, tears suddenly filling them--"and it is
dreadful, dreadful, to see him suffer as he does. He will die unless
someone comes to his aid. Oh, I know I am asking an immense thing, when
I beg of you to leave all your patients and come to the country. But we
can pay. Money is no object whatever to us. We can, we will, gladly pay
you for your services."

"I must think the matter over," I said. "You flatter me by wishing for
me, and by believing that I can render you assistance, but I cannot take
a step of this kind in a hurry. I will write to you by to-night's post
i