and blow released the pressure on the optic nerve; but--"

Something in the face he was watching brought him suddenly forward in
his chair. "My dear woman, you don't mean--you can't--"

He did not finish his sentence. Mrs. Whitmore opened her eyes and met
his gaze unflinchingly. Then she turned her head.

"Doctor," she said, "that picture on the wall there at the foot of the
bed--it doesn't hang quite straight."

"Mrs. Whitmore!" breathed the man incredulously, half rising from his
chair.

"Hush! Not yet!" The woman's insistent hand had pulled him back. "Why am
I here? Where is this place?"

There was no answer.

"Doctor, you must tell me. I must know."

Again the man hesitated. He noted the flushed cheeks and shaking hands
of the woman before him. It was true, she must know; and perhaps, after
all, it was best she should know through him. He drew a long breath and
plunged straight into the heart of the story.

Five minutes later a glad voice came from the doorway.

"Mother, dearest--then you're awake!" The doctor was conscious of a low-
breathed "Hush, don't tell her!" in his ears; then, to his amazement, he