le about the table.

"Will you excuse me? The telephone. Peters, go on with the dinner." With
small precise steps he walked out of the door which one of the footmen
had thrown open.

A momentary silence fell on the group; then Mr. Grisben once more
addressed himself to Rainer. "You ought to have gone, my boy; you ought
to have gone."

The anxious look returned to the youth's eyes. "My uncle doesn't think
so, really."

"You're not a baby, to be always governed by your uncle's opinion. You
came of age to-day, didn't you? Your uncle spoils you.... that's what's
the matter...."

The thrust evidently went home, for Rainer laughed and looked down with
a slight accession of colour.

"But the doctor--"

"Use your common sense, Frank! You had to try twenty doctors to find one
to tell you what you wanted to be told."

A look of apprehension overshadowed Rainer', gaiety. "Oh, come--I
say!... What would _you_ do?" he stammered.

"Pack up and jump on the first train." Mr. Grisben leaned forward and
laid his hand kindly on the young man's arm. "Look here: my nephew Jim
Grisben is out there ranching on a big scale. He'll take you in and be
glad to have you. You say your new doctor thinks it won't do you any
good; but he doesn't pretend to say it will do you harm, does he? Well,
then--give it a trial. It'll take you out of hot theatres and night
restaurants, anyhow.... And all the rest of it.... Eh, Balch?"

"Go!" said Mr. Balch hollowly. "Go _at once_," he added, as if a closer
look at the youth's face had impressed on him the need of backing up his
friend.

Young Rainer had turned ashy-pale. He tried to stiffen his mouth into a
smile. "Do I look as bad as all that?"

Mr. Grisben was helping himself to terrapin. "You look like the day
after an earthquake," he said.

The terrapin had encircled the table, and been deliberately enjoyed by
Mr. Lavington's three visitors (Rainer, Faxon noticed, left his plate
untouched) before the door was thrown open to re-admit their host.
Mr. Lavington advanced with an air of recovered composure. He seated
himself, picked up his napkin and consulted the gold-monogrammed menu.
"No, don't bring back the filet.... Some terrapin; yes...." He looked
affably about the table. "Sorry to have deserted you, but the storm has
played the deuce with the wires, and I had to wait a long time before I
could get a good connection. It must be blowing up for a blizzard."

"Uncle Jack," young Rainer brok