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them knew how strong it was.
‘Are you going to stay a day or two?’ He asked Philip, pre-
tending to believe he had come down for a holiday.
‘I was thinking of it,’ Philip answered cheerfully.
‘A breath of sea-air will do you good.’
Presently Dr. Wigram came, and after he had seen the
Vicar talked with Philip. He adopted an appropriate man-
ner.
‘I’m afraid it is the end this time, Philip,’ he said. ‘It’ll be
a great loss to all of us. I’ve known him for five-and-thirty
years.’
‘He seems well enough now,’ said Philip.
‘I’m keeping him alive on drugs, but it can’t last. It was
dreadful these last two days, I thought he was dead half a
dozen times.’
The doctor was silent for a minute or two, but at the gate
he said suddenly to Philip:
‘Has Mrs. Foster said anything to you?’
‘What d’you mean?’
‘They’re very superstitious, these people: she’s got hold of
an idea that he’s got something on his mind, and he can’t
die till he gets rid of it; and he can’t bring himself to con-
fess it.’
Philip did not answer, and the doctor went on.
‘Of course it’s nonsense. He’s led a very good life, he’s
done his duty, he’s been a good parish priest, and I’m sure
we shall all miss him; he can’t have anything to reproach
himself with. I very much doubt whether the next vicar will
suit us half so well.’

0 Of Human Bondage