f nervous invalids. We are open already to the inspection
of a few privileged friends--come and see us. Are you walking my way?
Pray take my arm, and tell me to what happy chance I am indebted for the
pleasure of seeing you again?'

"I told him the circumstances exactly as they had happened, and I added
(with a view to making sure of his relations with his former ally at
Pimlico) that I had been greatly surprised to hear Mrs. Oldershaw's door
shut on such an old friend as himself. Cautious as he was, the doctor's
manner of receiving my remark satisfied me at once that my suspicions
of an estrangement were well founded. His smile vanished, and he settled
his hideous spectacles irritably on the bridge of his nose.

"'Pardon me if I leave you to draw your own conclusions,' he said. 'The
subject of Mrs. Oldershaw is, I regret to say, far from agreeable to me
under existing circumstances--a business difficulty connected with our
late partnership at Pimlico, entirely without interest for a young and
brilliant woman like yourself. Tell me your news! Have you left your
situation at Thorpe Ambrose? Are you residing in London? Is there
anything, professional or otherwise, that I can do for you?'

"That last question was a more important one than he supposed. Before
I answered it, I felt the necessity of parting company with him and of
getting a little time to think.

"'You have kindly asked me, doctor, to pay you a visit,' I said. 'In
your quiet house at Hampstead, I may possibly have something to say to
you which I can't say in this noisy street. When are you at home at the
Sanitarium? Should I find you there later in the day?'

"The doctor assured me that he was then on his way back, and begged that
I would name my own hour. I said, 'Toward the afternoon;' and, pleading
an engagement, hailed the first omnibus that passed us. 'Don't forget
the address,' said the doctor, as he handed me in. 'I have got your
card,' I answered, and so we parted.

"I returned to the hotel, and went up into my room, and thought over it
very anxiously.

"The serious obstacle of the signature on the marriage register still
stood in my way as unmanageably as ever. All hope of getting assistance
from Mrs. Oldershaw was at an end. I could only regard her henceforth
as an enemy hidden in the dark--the enemy, beyond all doubt now, who
had had me followed and watched when I was last in London. To what other
counselor could I turn for the advice which