358 THE EULOGY OF RICHARD JEFFERIES. 



ness and pain seemed forgotten for the moment 

 alas ! only for the moment. Uneasily he 

 sat in the little arbour telling me how his 

 disease seemed still to puzzle the doctors ; how 

 he felt well able in mind to work, plenty of 

 mental energy, but so weak, so fearfully weak, 

 that he could no longer write with his own 

 hand ; that his wife was patient and good to 

 help him. He had nobody to come and talk 

 with him of the world of literature and art. 

 Why couldn't I come and settle by ? There 

 was plenty to paint. Though Goring itself 

 was one of the ugliest places in the world, 

 there was Arundel, and its noble park, and 

 river, and castle close by. I must go and see 

 it the very next day, and see whether I could 

 not work there, and come back every day and 

 cheer him. I was the best doctor, after all/ 



" Poor fellow ! I did not then know or 

 believe that he was so utterly without sympa- 

 thetic society except his devoted wife. It was 

 so. I am one of the dullest companions in the 

 world; but I had sympathy with his work, 

 and knowledge, too, of his subjects. Well, 

 nothing would do but that I must go to 



