"Good-evening, Mr. Kronborg," said the doctor care-
lessly. "Sit down."

His visitor was a tall, loosely built man, with a thin
brown beard, streaked with gray. He wore a frock coat, a
broad-brimmed black hat, a white lawn necktie, and steel-
rimmed spectacles. Altogether there was a pretentious and
important air about him, as he lifted the skirts of his coat
and sat down.

"Good-evening, doctor. Can you step around to the

house with me? I think Mrs. Kronborg will need you this
evening." This was said with profound gravity and, curi-
ously enough, with a slight embarrassment.

"Any hurry?" the doctor asked over his shoulder as he
went into his operating-room.

Mr. Kronborg coughed behind his hand, and contracted
his brows. His face threatened at every moment to break
into a smile of foolish excitement. He controlled it only by
calling upon his habitual pulpit manner. "Well, I think it
would be as well to go immediately. Mrs. Kronborg will be
more comfortable if you are there. She has been suffering
for some time."

The doctor came back and threw a black bag upon his