"
F. W. H. Myers.
About the beginning of August, I rejoined him at Ben Rhydding. The
place suited the Major admirably, and his various baths took up so
great a part of each day, that Derrick had more time to himself than
usual, and 'At Strife' got on rapidly. He much enjoyed, too, the
beautiful country round, while the hotel itself, with its huge
gathering of all sorts and conditions of people, afforded him
endless studies of character. The Major breakfasted in his own
room, and, being so much engrossed with his baths, did not generally
appear till twelve. Derrick and I breakfasted in the great dining-
hall; and one morning, when the meal was over, we, as usual,
strolled into the drawing-room to see if there were any letters
awaiting us.
"One for you," I remarked, handing him a thick envelope.
"From Lawrence!" he exclaimed.
"Well, don't read it in here; the Doctor will be coming to read
prayers. Come out in the garden," I said.
We went out into the beautiful grounds, and he tore open the
envelope and began to read his letter as we walked. All at once I
felt the arm which was linked in mine give a quick, involuntary
movement, and, looking up, saw that Derrick had turned deadly pale.
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