turned for sympathy in the nearest feminine eye. "Really, dear,--I think that was almost _vulgar_,--as well as unkind," murmured the other mother at her side. "_Vulgar_! _Unkind_! Well, it is the last time he will have the opportunity to insult me! The idea! _Elsie_!--But it's not the first time I have thought of changing physicians!" (This was true,--but she never did; the solid Elsie was her only one.) "And such desperate haste;--he must have a _most critical_ case!" She cast an indignant glance at the building, as if to make it an accessory to the fact, and turning a kindling and interrogative glance upon her companion, encountered one of profound and scintillating significance. For a moment they contemplated their discovery breathlessly in each other's eyes. "Did you ever!" exclaimed number one at last. "Oh, of course I had heard things,--but I will do myself the justice to say I _never_ believed a word of it before! _This_, of course, makes it plain enough;--this explains _all_!" The two--good women, but wounded withal--coruscated subtle knowledge all down the street. Meantime the Doctor climbed the stairs. He was perfectly conscious that he had been, in fact, both unkind and rude, even though his mood did not incline him to take measure of the extent of his delinquency. He knew equally that he should presently have to write a note of apology--and that it would not do an atom of good, _Tant pis_. He rang at the door of the daffodil-room, and it was opened by the tall girl whose eyes had hurt him that morning. They did not hurt him now, but enveloped him with a keen and soft regard that left no question unanswered. In another moment she had put out a firm hand and drawn him over the threshold in its clasp. "Don't speak,--don't try to say a word! There!" She had taken from him his hat and gloves and pushed forward a low chair in front of the fire, all in one capable movement. "What is it? Tea? Coffee? A glass of wine?" "_Music_!" answered the Doctor, raising two haggard eyes, with the exhausted air of an animal taking shelter. The girl turned away her own and walked towards the piano, stopping on the way, however, to push forward a little table set forth with a steaming tea-urn and cups, matches and a tray, and to lift to its farther edge a bowl of heavy-scented violets. Her every motion was full of ministry, as devoid of fuss. The room was low, broad, and large, and full of books, flowers, low seats, and leaping firelight. A grand-piano, piled with music,