hand would do their part to stimulate. She submitted to this possibility,
and waited for his coming, which began to seem unreasonably delayed. The
door opened at last, and a tall, powerfully framed man of thirty-five or
forty, dressed in an ill-fitting suit of gray Canada homespun appeared.
He moved with a slow, pondering step, and carried his shaggy head bent
downwards from shoulders slightly rounded. His dark beard was already
grizzled, and she saw that his mustache was burnt and turned tawny at
points by smoking, of which habit his presence gave stale evidence to
another sense. He held Grace's card in his hand, and he looked at her, as
he advanced, out of gray eyes that, if not sympathetic, were perfectly
intelligent, and that at once sought to divine and class her. She
perceived that he took in the lilies and her coming color; she felt that
he noted her figure and her dress.

She half rose in response to his questioning bow, and he motioned her to
her seat again. "I had to keep you waiting," he said. "I was up all night
with a patient, and I was asleep when my mother called me." He stopped
here, and definitively waited for her to begin.

She did not find this easy, as he took a chair in front of her, and sat
looking steadily in her face. "I'm sorry to have disturbed you" "Oh, not
at all," he interrupted. "The rule is to disturb a doctor."

"I mean," she began again, "that I am not sure that I am justified in
disturbing you."

He waited a little while for her to go on, and then he said, "Well, let
us hear."

"I wish to consult with you," she broke out, and again she came to a