He no longer required the arm of his valet to lean on, or even the help of a cane to walk with.
One day his sister said to him:
“Francis, I do believe that you have been more of a hypochondriac than of a real invalid, after all.”
“Elf,” he answered, “I am inclined to suspect that you are right. Certainly most of my ailments, real or imaginary, have vanished under the influence of change, motion and society.”
As the earl continued to improve in health and strength, his sister watched him with a new interest.
On another day she said to him:
“Francis, why don’t you marry?”
Lord Enderby started, and then he laughed.
“What has put that into your head?” he inquired.
“My anxious interest in your future—now that you have a future, brother.”