"Then for Heaven's sake, help me! I am almost mad. My wife has been
suddenly taken ill, and I have been to the hotel, where they tell me
they have not a room in which they can lodge her. The thing is
incredible. You must help me."

"I will do what I can," returned the doctor.

Had fortune indeed knocked at his door at last?

He went to the carriage-door, and, looking inside, saw a lady, young and
beautiful, who stretched out her hands to him, as though appealing for
help.

"I am very ill," she moaned, feebly.

Dr. Letsom guessed so much from her pallid face and shadowed eyes.

"What is the matter with your wife?" he asked of the strange gentleman,
who bent down and whispered something that made Dr. Letsom himself look
anxious.

"Now doctor," said the traveler, "it is useless to raise objections You
see how the matter stands; my wife must stop here. The hotel is full of
visitors--people who are here for the races. There is nowhere else for
her to go--she must stay here."

"At my house?" interrogated the doctor. "It is impossible."

"Why?" asked the stranger, quickly.