him. "Do you wish to see me professionally?"

"Indeed, I don't." She laughed frankly. "I am the picture of
health."

Stone, observing her fine coloring and clear eyes, silently agreed
with her. The widow made a charming picture in her modish tea-gown,
and the physician, watching her with an appraising eye, acknowledged
the beauty which had captivated all Washington. Mrs. Brewster had
carried her honors tactfully, a fact which had gained her popularity
even among the dowagers and match-making mothers who take an active
part in Washington's social season.

"Then, Margaret, what do you wish to see me about?" Stone asked,
after waiting without result for her to continue speaking.

She laughed softly. "You are the most practical of men," she said.
"It would not have been so difficult to find a companion anxious to
spend the whole afternoon with me for my sake alone."

"Colonel McIntyre, for instance?" he teased, and laughed amusedly
at her heightened color. "Have a care, Margaret; McIntyre's
flirtations are all very well, but he is the type of man to be
deadly in earnest when once he falls in love."

"Thanks for your warning," Mrs. Brewster smiled, then grew serious.
"I sent for you to ask about Jimmie Turnbull's death this morning.
Barbara told me you accompanied them to the police court."

"Yes. Why weren't you with the girls?"