e while ago he had
called her to say there were no more matches in the little brass
matchsafe. She began to utter long cries and lamentations like a hen in
distress, raising her hands to heaven. All at once they heard some one
rushing up the stairs. It was the butler, in his shirt-sleeves and his
enormous apron of ticking, still carrying his trowel in his hand. He was
bewildered, his eyes protruding, while all about him he spread the smell
of fresh earth. At every instant he exclaimed:

"What? What? What's the matter?"

"Oh, my dear old governor--and all alone!" cried Vandover through shut
teeth.

"Oh, oh, the good God!" exclaimed the housekeeper, crossing herself and
rolling her eyes. "And him asking for matches in the little brass box
only a minute since. Oh, the good, kind master!"

Suddenly Vandover rushed down the stairs and through the front hall,
snatching his hat from the hatrack as he passed. He ran to call the
family doctor, who lived some two blocks below on the same street. He
caught him just as he was getting into the carry-all with his family,
bound for church.

Vandover and the physician rode back together in the carry-all, the two
gray horses going up the steep hill at a trot. The doctor was dressed
for church; he wore red gloves with thick white seams, a spray of
lilies-of-the-valley in his lapel.

"I'm afraid we can do nothing," he said warningly. "It's your father's
old enemy, I suppose. This was--it was sure to happen sooner or later.
Any sudden shock, you know."

Vandover scarcely listened, holding the door of the carry-all open with
one hand, ready to jump out, beating the other hand upon his knee.

"Go back and take the rest of them to church now," said the doctor to
his coachman when the carry-all stopped in front of Vandover's house.

The whole house was in the greatest agitation all the rest of the day.
The curtains were drawn, the door bell rang incessantly, strange faces
passed the windows, and the noise of strange footsteps continually
mounted and descended the staircase. The hours for meals were all
deranged, the table stood ready all day long, and one ate when there was
a chance. The telephone was in constant use, and at every moment
messenger boys came and went, people spoke in low tones, walking on
tiptoe; the florist's wagon drove to the door again and again, and the
house began to smell of tuberoses. Reporters came, waiting patiently for
interviews, sitting on the leather ch