down close beside her.

"I've discharged myself from the case," he said. He spoke quietly, but
his voice vibrated with feeling. "It was the only thing to do. No man
could keep on with a case where the family were secretly following the
consultant's directions, instead of those of the physician in charge.
But,--for your sake, little wife, I've done something I never would have
believed I'd do."

She sat up, her eyes fixed on the dim outlines of his face. "Tell me!"
she urged.

"To begin with, I had it out with them, and let them know I understood
the situation perfectly--and had understood it all along. That I couldn't
stay with people who had lost faith in me. That if I were out of it they
could have the full benefit of Van Horn's orders, and the nurses would be
relieved of a mighty difficult situation. I suppose you don't know--few
people do--that it's a bad breach of professional ethics for a consultant
to conduct himself so that he throws doubt on the ability of the man in
charge? In this case it was a piece of outrageous--" He caught himself
up. "I can't get going on that, or--those fires won't stay banked!"

She had his hand in both hers, and she lifted it to her lips. He drew a
smothered breath or two, and went on.

"They were glad enough to see me out of it. Van Horn was--also glad!
You see,--within the last few hours the patient had lost ground--Van's
prognosis was being verified. But, when it came to taking leave of the
patient, there was the dickens to pay. His pulse jumped and his
temperature went up, and there was trouble for fair. He begged me not to