"Yes, I think it is," agreed Doctor Gordon gloomily, "but again, I say,
I see no other way out of it. However, perhaps you or I can take her out
sometimes of an evening. I suppose it had better be you, on some
accounts. I will see. Well, I will take off my coat and get something to
eat. I suppose Clara and Clemency have gone to bed."

"They went hours ago," replied James. It was, in fact, two in the
morning. James followed the doctor, haggard and weary, into the kitchen,
where, according to custom at such times, some dinner had been left to
keep warm on the range. "I'll sit down here," said Doctor Gordon. "It is
warmer than in the dining-room, and I am chilled through. If you don't
mind, Elliot, I wish you would get me a bottle of apple-jack from the
dining-room. I must have something to hearten me up, or I shall go by
the board, and I don't know what will become of her--of them."

James sat and waited while the doctor ate and drank. When he had
finished he looked a little less haggard. He stretched himself before
the warm glow from the range and laughed. "Now I feel my fighting blood
is up again," he said. "After all, if there is anything in the Good
Book, the wicked shall not always triumph, and I may win out. I shall
do my best anyhow. But I confess you took the wind out of me with what
you told me when I came in. I am glad Clara does not know. Poor little
Clemency having to pave her way with lies, but it would kill Clara. Oh,
God, it does seem as if I had enough before. Take my advice, young man,
and try to think more of yourself than anybody else in the world. Don't
let your heart go out to anybody. Just as sure as you do, the door of
the worst torture-chamber in creation swings open. The minute you become
vulnerable through love, you haven't a strong place in your whole
armor."