ed
solicitously in the background. "I'm afraid, sir, your eggs will be
over-done."

"Bring them along," directed McIntyre, and flung himself into his chair
at the foot of the table. He had been seated but a few minutes when
Barbara appeared and dutifully presented her cheek to be kissed, then
she tripped lightly to Helen's place opposite her father, and pressed
the electric bell for Grimes.

"Coffee, please," she said as that worthy appeared, and busied herself
in arranging the cups and saucers. "Helen is taking her breakfast
upstairs," she explained to her father.

"How about Mrs. Brewster?"

"Still asleep." Barbara poured out her father's coffee with careful
attention to detail. "I peeked into her room a moment ago and she looked
so 'comfy' I hadn't the heart to awaken her. You must have been very
late at the club last night."

"We got home a little after one o'clock."

McIntyre helped himself to poached eggs and bacon. "What did you do last
night?"

"Went to bed early," answered Barbara with brevity. "Helen wasn't
feeling well."

McIntyre's handsome face showed concern as he glanced across the table.
"Have you sent for Dr. Stone?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Helen--I--we"--Barbara stumbled in her speech. "We have taken an
aversion to Dr. Stone."

McIntyre set down his coffee cup with unwonted force, thereby spilling
some of its contents.

"What!" he exclaimed in complete astonishment, and regarded her fixedly
for a moment. His tolerant manner, which he frequently assumed toward
Barbara, grew stern. "Dr. Stone is my personal friend, as well as our
family physician--"

"And a cousin of Margaret Brewster," put in Barbara mildly.

"Well, what of it?" trenchantly, aware that he had colored at mention of
the widow's name. "Nothing," Barbara's eyes opened innocently. "I only
recalled the fact of his relationship as you enumerated his virtues."

Colonel McIntyre transferred his regard from her to the butler. "You
need not wait, Grimes." He remained silent until the servant was safely
in the pantry, and then addressed his daughter. "None of your tricks,
Barbara," he cautioned. "If Helen is ill enough to require medical
attention, Dr. Stone is to be sent for, regardless of your sudden
dislike to him, for which, by the way, you have given no cause."

"Haven't I?" Barbara folded her napkin with neat exactness. "It's--it's
intangible."

"Pooh!" McIntyre gave a short laugh, as he pushed back his chair. "I'm
goi