Part 17 (2/2)

”Oh, nothing much.”

”Didn't she agree that it was the very thing for the Doctor? Didn't she acknowledge that it would spread the news of his high standing as a physician and a thinker?”

”Yes, she said it would do him a great deal of good abroad.”

”A woman in a million. Did the abstruse parts seem to impress her?”

”Yes, she caught all the kinks.”

”The Socrates of her s.e.x. Did she say that she would send it off at once?”

”By the first train. She was particular to ask if you had let any one else into the secret. She's sensitive--and as I was about to go, she asked me not to refer to the matter again, and she hoped that you wouldn't. I don't think she can bear to be thanked. So I promised that neither of us would speak of the transaction, even to her.”

”Delicate soul! And you did well to promise. My boy, if sincere thanks are winged things that fly to heaven, there is now a flight of grat.i.tude to the sky. Won't you come in?”

”No, I've just had breakfast and must go to work.”

”Well, I hope to see you again before long. And, by the way, I wish to tell you that my wife and daughter were charmed with your visit. They are dear to me, but they do not understand. Pardon me, I am detaining you.”

For more than a week the Professor had drooped under anxiety, but now he walked high of head. When he entered the dining-room his wife asked who had called. He answered that it was some one who wanted directions to Mrs. Stuvic's. Lying might at one time have been a luxury with him, but now it was a necessity. She rarely expected the truth from him. It took him longer to tell a lie, and he was fond of talking. And besides, a failure is under no obligations to tell the truth.

”It took you quite a while to give him directions.”

”Yes, it is a roundabout way.”

”But you seem to have quite a knack for finding it yourself--to be presented to remarkable women.”

”My knack for finding remarkable women began in my earlier years.”

”Indeed! And you have been keeping yourself well in practice ever since.”

”Constant rehearsal with a former discovery keeps me from growing rusty.”

”Well, I don't care, but there's one thing certain! When you come home to-night you'll find that I have thrown that old sofa out into the back yard.”

”It's a dreadful thing, pa,” said Miss Katherine. ”It's a disgrace.”

”I know it, but we shall have a new one pretty soon.”

”I've heard that for years,” said his wife. ”Why don't you let that old life insurance go? Gracious alive, it's nonsense to deny yourself everything.”

”It's worse than that,” the girl spoke up; ”it's almost a crime. We don't want you to fret your life out for us. If we are to have anything we want you to share it. You haven't seen anything but worry since you took out the policy. Let it drop. The money you'd have to give for the next payment would make us happy. We could get so many nice things with it, and wouldn't feel ashamed every time a visitor comes into the house.

Do, pa.” She put her hand on his arm and looked at him appealingly.

He shook his head. ”A crime, you say. Then let us acknowledge it a crime. But let us also acknowledge that it is not so dark a crime as it is for a man to die and leave his family in distress. Look at Norwood; look at Bracken. The neighbors had to contribute.”

”But you aren't going to die yet a while,” said his wife. ”You are in good health. Well, there's no two ways about it. I'm going to throw that old sofa out into the yard. I've stood it as long as I can. It's the first thing a stranger sees when he comes into the house.”

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