morning and afternoon if he
goes on all right. Will you see the nurse and arrange with her? She
will know which is his best time."

Philippa said she would do so, and the doctor went in for a final look
at his patient before leaving the house.

As the girl sat alone later in the evening, she pondered over the words
Francis had spoken. That his memory had not failed in any detail
within what might be termed the radius of his love story she was well
aware. It had been further proved to-day; he had mentioned her
singing. Fortunately that presented no difficulty to her, for,
although she did not possess a voice in any way remarkable, still, she
had been well trained and had sung a good deal in her father's
lifetime. He had also spoken of riding, and of her going to Scotland.
It might be that he remembered riding with her, and perhaps the first
Philippa had arranged a visit to Scotland--she could not tell. But
beyond this he had spoken of Bessacre and Bessmoor, giving the places
their correct names without hesitating. She had always understood that
the names of places presented the gravest difficulty to a memory in any
way troubled or imperfect. Did this mean that his mind was perfectly
clear upon all that had happened up to the time of the accident, but
that from that moment all was darkness? This was frequently so in
cases of concussion of the brain, as she knew, but against this
explanation was the fact that he had recognised both the doctor and
Mrs. Goodman. If he only remembered them as they were at the time of
his accident, surely he would have made some comment on their altered
appearance. It was this that puzzled--this that made the situation so
complex.

She made a little plan of campaign in her mind--of books she would read
with him, of various little things which she would order which might
amuse him. The way bristled with pitfalls if once she allowed herself
to consider them. Twenty years! How everything must have altered
since then! For instance, how much had the ordinary everyday sights
such as pass us every day without our giving them a thought changed in
that time! Twenty years ago the motor-car was unknown, electric light
was in its infancy. The Heathcotes had cars, but she remembered that
Francis' room looked out on a part of the garden and that the drive was
not visible from the windows. Therefore, although it was possible that
he might have heard the sound of a horn or siren, he woul