crisis came night before last. He'll get well, they think, though he had a narrow shave—the whisky nearly did for him. I found him in the common ward. He wanted me to get him a private room, and send a letter to—his place—and so on. I arranged it."
"How is he now?" asked Teresa, after a pause, during which Basil tramped sombrely up and down the room.
"Oh, he looks like the devil. A wreck. It would have been better for him if he'd played out for good, I'm afraid."
"You men are rather hard on one another—and for the same sort of thing that you all do, more or less."
"Yes, but it's the more or less. With the less a man can get on, but with the more he goes to the wall—and perhaps the sooner the better."
Basil's face somewhat belied the hardness of his words, and showed how deeply he had been disturbed. Teresa was silent for some moments, then she told him of Mrs. Perry's visit. He brightened.
"Oh, I'm glad she's back. I want to get on with the portrait—I believe it's pretty good. To-morrow afternoon, she said?"
"Yes, but—I wanted you to-morrow afternoon."
"What for?"
"I want you to take me into the country. I
