de he reached Ella's side,
and took the tiny figure from her arms.

"What's the matter here?" he questioned sharply.

Rose-Marie was not conscious of the words that she used as she described
Lily's accident. She glossed over Jim's part in it as lightly as
possible; she told, as quickly as she could, the history of the child.
And as she told it, the doctor's lean capable hands were passing, with
practiced skill, over the little relaxed body. When she told of the
child's deaf and dumb condition she was conscious of his absolute
attention--though he did not for a moment stop his work--when she spoke
of the scream she saw his start of surprise. But his only words were in
the nature of commands. "Bring water"--he ordered, "clean water, in a
basin. A _clean_ basin. Bring a sponge"--he corrected himself--"a clean
rag will do--only it must be _clean_"--this to Mrs. Volsky, "you
_understand?_ Where," his eyes were on Ella's face, "can we lay the
child? Is there a _clean_ bed, anywhere?"

Ella was shaking with nervousness as she opened the door of the inner
room that she and Lily shared. Mrs. Volsky, carrying the basin of water,
was sobbing. Jim, standing in the center of the room, was like a
statue--only his haunted eyes were alive. The Young Doctor, glancing from
face to face, spoke suddenly to Rose-Marie.

"I hate to ask you," he said simply, "but you seem to be the only one who
hasn't gone to pieces. Will you come in here with me?"

Rose-Marie nodded, and she spoke, very softly. "Then you think that I'll
be able--to help?" she questioned.

The Young Doctor was remembering--or forgetting--many things.

"I know that you will!" he said, and he spoke as softly as she had done.
"I know that you will!"

They went, together, with Lily, into the inner room. And as the Young
Doctor closed the door, Rose-Marie knew a very real throb of triumph. For
he had admitted that her help was to be desired--that she could really do
something!

But, the moment that the door closed, she forgot her feeling of victory,
for, of a sudden, she saw Dr. Blanchard in a new light. She saw him lay
the little figure upon the bed--she saw him pull off his coat. And then,
while she held the basin of water, she saw him get to work. And as she
watched him her last feeling of doubt was swept away.

"He may say that he's not interested in people," she told herself
joyously, "but he is. He may think that he doesn't care for religion--but
he does. There's