"Which doesn't count for much," said his wife.

"It counts for some hours," he replied, "and Mrs. Pardell did not
sleep at all."

Dr. Tolbridge, a man of moderate height, and compactly built, with some
touches of gray in his full, short beard, and all the light of youth in
his blue eyes, had been for years the leading physician in and about
Thorbury. He lived on the outskirts of the little town, but the lines of
his practice extended in every direction into the surrounding country.

The doctor's wife was younger than he was; she had a high opinion of him,
and had learned to diagnose him, mentally, morally, and physically, with
considerable correctness. It may be asserted, in fact, that the doctor
seldom made a diagnosis of a patient as exact as those she made of him.
But then it must be remembered that she had only one person to exert her
skill upon, while he had many.

The Tolbridge house was one of the best in the town, but the family was
small. There was but one child, a boy of fourteen, who was now away at
school. The doctor had readjusted the logs upon the andirons, and was
just putting the tongs in their place when a maidservant came in.

"There's a boy here, sir," she said, "from Miss Panney. She's sent for
you in a hurry."

In the same instant the doctor and his wife turned in their chairs and
fixed their eyes upon the servant, but there was nothing remarkable
about her; she had delivered her message and stood waiting. The doctor's