ht do that, if he would put off all
subsequent ones. This was wisely done, in order to reassure him, as he
was an excitable though not a timid patient. He was at Hare Street for a
day or two, and his trusted servant, Mr. Reeman, tells me that he seemed
ill and out of spirits. The last words he said as he drove away, looking
round the lime-encircled lawn, were, "Ah! the leaves will all be gone
when I come home again."

He preached at Salford on October 4, and went to Ulverston on October 5,
where he conducted a mission. On October 10 he returned, and Canon
Sharrock says that he arrived in great pain, and had to move very
slowly. But he preached again on October 11, though he used none of the
familiar gestures, but stood still in the pulpit. He suffered much after
the sermon, and rested long in a chair in the sacristy. He started to go
to London on the Monday morning, but had to return in the taxi, feeling
too ill to travel. Then followed days of acute pain, during which he no
doubt caught a severe chill. He could not sleep, and he could only
obtain relief by standing up. He wandered restlessly one night about the
corridors, very lightly clad, and even went out into the court. He stood
for two or three hours leaning on the mantelpiece of his room, with
Father Gorman sitting near him, and trying in vain to persuade him to
retire to bed.

When he was not suffering he was full of life, and even of gaiety. He
went one of these afternoons, at his own suggestion, to a cinema show
with one of the priests, but though he enjoyed it, and even laughed
heartily, he said later that it had exhausted him.

He wrote some letters, putting off many of his autumn and winter
engagements. But he grew worse; a specialist was called in, and, though
the diagnosis was entirely confirmed, it was found that pneumonia had
set in.

XVI

THE END

I had spent a long day in London at a business meeting, where we
discussed a complicated educational problem. I came away alone; I was
anxious to have news of my sister, who had that morning undergone a
slight operation; but I was not gravely disquieted, because no serious
complications were expected.

When I reached my house there were two telegrams awaiting me, one to say
that the operation had gone well, the other from Canon Sharrock, of
Salford, to say that my brother was dangerously ill of pneumonia. I
wired at once for a further report, and before it arrived made up my
mind that I must