found him in his office on lower Broadway. He was young and
distinguished-looking, which probably accounted for the fact that
his office had become a sort of fashionable court of domestic
relations.

"I'm a friend of Dr. Bolton Burr, of Montrose," introduced
Kennedy. Cranston looked at him keenly, but Kennedy was a good
actor. "I have been studying some of the patients at the
sanatorium, and I have seen Mrs. Cranston there."

"Indeed!" responded Cranston. "I'm all broken up by it myself."

I could not resist thinking that he took it very calmly, however.

"I should like very much to make what we call a psychanalysis of
Mrs. Cranston's mental condition," Kennedy explained.

"A psychanalysis?" repeated Cranston.

"Yes; you know it is a new system. In the field of abnormal
psychology, the soul-analysis is of first importance. To-day, this
study is of the greatest help in neurology and psychiatry. Only, I
can't make it without the consent of the natural guardian of the
patient. Doctor Burr tells me that you will have no objection."

Cranston thoughtfully studied the wall opposite.

"Well," he returned, slowly, "they tell me that without treatment
she will soon be hopelessly insane--perhaps dangerously so. That
is all I know. I am not a specialist. If Doctor Burr--" He paused.