capital. Then some "big people" collected the fragments to cast them into
the pot once more. Dr. Leonard added another might-have-been and a new sigh
to the secret chamber of his soul. But his face was turned outward to
receive the next scheme.

This time it happened to be a wonderful new process of evolving gas from
dirt and city refuse. He had been explaining it gently to a woman in the
chair, from pure intellectual interest, to distract the patient's mind. He
was not tinkering with teeth this time, however. The woman was sitting in
the chair because it was the only unoccupied space. She had removed her hat
and was looking steadily into the lake. At last, when the little office
clerk had left, the talk about the gas generator ceased, and the woman
turned her wistful face to the old dentist. There was a sombre pause.

"Yes," the dentist muttered finally, "I saw it in the paper Tuesday, no,
Monday--it was Monday, wasn't it? and I hoped you'd come in."

The woman moved her hands restlessly, as if to ask where else she could go.

"They most always do turn up," he continued bluntly; "them that no one
wants, like your husband. What are you going to do?"

The woman turned her face back to the lake; it was evident that she had no
plan.

"I thought," the dentist began, recalling her story, "I thought when you'd
started in the schools--it was a mighty hard thing to do to get you in; it
took all my pull on Mahoney."

The woman's face flushed. "I know," she murmured. "They don't want married