that had fastened like a vampire on her heart. But to no avail. She was
as beyond his reach as if she were a creature of another planet. Never
in his active, efficient life had he felt so helpless. It was with
thanksgiving that at last he saw the ornate entrance of Mrs. Marteen's
home.

"Watch her!" he ordered the chauffeur, as he leaped up the steps and
into the vestibule to prepare for her reception.

A message to her apartment brought the maid and butler in haste. With
many exclamations of alarm and sympathy they bore her to her own room
once more, and laid her upon the bed. She lay limp and still, while they
hurried about her with restoratives.

Brencherly was at the telephone. Almost at once, in answer to his ring,
Doctor Balys' voice sounded over the wire in hasty congratulations and
promises of immediate assistance. Hanging up the receiver, he turned
again to his patient.

Through the silent apartment the sound of the doorbell buzzed with
sudden shock. The butler stood as if transfixed.

"It's Miss Dorothy!" he exclaimed in consternation. "She went out to
walk a little, with young Mr. Mahr. She was nervous and couldn't rest,
and telephoned for him to come--in spite of--in spite of--" He
hesitated. "Anyway, Mr. Mahr--young Mr. Mahr--came for her, sir.
Mr.--Mr.--I think you'd better break it to her, sir. She mustn't see her
mother like this--without warning!"

Brencherly ran down the hall, the servant preceding him. As the door