ecil awake?"

"I do not think so. Gaynor was to send me word in that case."

"You evidently rely on this man Gaynor for everything."

"I consider him reliable. I have no one else to rely on."

Lady Wychcote rose.

"I must tell you," she said, "that I intend sending for Craig Hopkins at
once."

"I wired for you, to consult you," said Sophy evenly.

"Quite so. And I presume that you are not surprised that I refuse to
take the opinion of a quack on a matter so near to me as the health of
my son."

"I do not think that Doctor Carfew can be justly called a 'quack.' He is
celebrated."

"Pardon me, but that's nonsense. All so-called specialists are quacks,
more or less. And I believe that Cagliostro was a very celebrated
person."

Sophy shrugged her shoulders.

"I only beg that whatever you decide to do will be done quickly," she
said.

"You shall be gratified. Craig Hopkins shall be here within the hour. I
will go for him myself--and return with him."

"Thanks," said Sophy gravely.

This "thanks" seemed to irritate Lady Wychcote beyond endurance. She
turned pale under her rouge, and bit the shreds of what had once been a
lovely, though heartless, mouth.

"I don't doubt," she said at last, "that Hopkins's opinion will coincide
with mine. I am convinced that the whole matter has been grossly
exaggerated."

"Of course, only a doctor can be the judge of that," said Sophy, still
quietly.

Lady Wychcote had reached the age when in mothers of her type the
affections wane as the ambitions wax. She desired to have her pride
satisfied rather than her heart filled. And of her two sons, one was an
easy-going invalid, and the other a brilliant failure. She was bitterly
thinking, as she bruised Sophy's spirit with her hard, implacable eyes,
"If Cecil had married a clever woman of his own class and country--she
could have made him. How many Englishmen have been made politically by
their wives! Even Chatham--one never hears much of his wife, to be
sure--but there's the fact. His first really active, successful part in
politics was taken shortly after he married her."

When Dr. Hopkins came and had seen Cecil (he also requested to see him
alone, and would have neither Sophy nor Lady Wychcote go in with him) he
looked very grave, and stated that, in his opinion also, Mr. Chesney was
suffering from the overuse of opiates.

"'Opiates'? That is an elastic term," said Lady Wychcote impatiently.
"Say plainly what you mean