ey left the room.

He took his hat and turned towards the Villa. Between the poplars he
stopped to think. The farther trees were fret-worked black against the
lingering gold of the sunset; a huge moth, attracted by the tip of his
cigar, came fluttering in his face. The music of a concertina rose and
fell, like the sighing of some disillusioned spirit. Dawney stood for
several minutes staring at the house.

He was shown to Mrs. Decie's room. She was holding a magazine before her
eyes, and received him with as much relief as philosophy permitted.

"You are the very person I wanted to see," she said.

He noticed that the magazine she held was uncut.

"You are a young man," pursued Mrs. Decie, "but as my doctor I have a
right to your discretion."

Dawney smiled; the features of his broad, clean-shaven face looked
ridiculously small on such occasions, but his eyes retained their air of
calculation.

"That is so," he answered.

"It is about this unfortunate affair. I understand that Mr. Harz is with
you. I want you to use your influence to dissuade him from attempting to
see my niece."

"Influence!" said Dawney; "you know Harz!"

Mrs. Decie's voice hardened.

"Everybody," she said, "has his weak points. This young man is open to
approach from at least two quarters--his pride is one, his work an other.
I am seldom wrong in gauging character; these are his vital spots, and
they are of the essence of this matter. I'm sorry for him, of
course--but at his age, and living a man's life, these things--" Her
smile was extra pale. "I wish you could give me something for my head.
It's foolish to worry. Nerves of course! But I can't help it! You know
my opinion, Dr. Dawney. That young man will go far if he remains
unfettered; he will make a name. You will be doing him a great service
if you could show him the affair as it really is--a drag on him, and
quite unworthy of his pride! Do help me! You are just the man to do
it!"

Dawney threw up his head as if to shake off this impeachment; the curve
of his chin thus displayed was imposing in its fulness; altogether he was
imposing, having an air of capability.

She struck him, indeed, as really scared; it was as if her mask of smile
had become awry, and failed to cover her emotion; and he was puzzled,
thinking, 'I wouldn't have believed she had it in her....' "It's not an
easy business," he said; "I'll think it over."

"Thank you!" murmured Mrs. Decie. "Yo