He answered lightly and evasively:
"No one is ever really out of danger. I take my life in my hands every time I go in my motor."
"Oh, yes! I've heard about your driving," I answered drily.
He laughed.
"I am supposed to be reckless, but really I am only unlucky. With luck now..."
"Yes, with luck?"
"You might go on for any time. I shouldn't worry about that if I were you. You are getting better."
"I am not worrying, only thinking about Mrs. Lovegrove. She has two children, a large house, literary and other engagements. Will you tell her I am well enough to be left alone?" He answered quickly and surprised:
"She does not want to go, she likes being with you. Not that I wonder at that."
He was a strange person. Sometimes I had an idea he was not "all there." He said whatever came into his mind, and had other divergencies from the ordinary type. I had to explain to him my need of solitude. If Ella went back to town, Benham would soon, I hoped, with a little encouragement, fall into the way of ordinary nurses. I had had them in London and knew their habits. Two or three hours in the morning for their so-called "constitutionals," two or three hours in the after-
