" He
touched his army cap in salute and left her alone. At the garden gate he
looked back--Miss Grey was also looking back, and vexed at being thus
caught bent down again and cut buds and roses with sharp nips of the
scissors.

It was not in the nature or breeding of John Penhallow to like Leila's
plan for securing to the surgeon a chance to impose on a reluctant woman
a clearly stated opinion which otherwise she might have the courage to
disregard. But what else could he do? A little after six he met the
carriage far down the avenue and walked slowly to the house with the
younger McGregor and the surgeon.

"You are most welcome," said John. "Dr. McGregor has, I trust, told you
of our difficulties with my aunt?"

Askew smiled. "Yes; it is no uncommon case. I may add that Dr. McGregor's
letters have satisfied me that an immediate operation offers the only and
too long delayed chance of success. I must, of course, see Mrs.
Penhallow--the sooner the better."

"Yes--pray follow me." He led the way across the hall, opened the library
door, and said to the astonished lady, "Prof. Askew, Aunt Ann." Then he
went out.

Well aware of being trapped, Mrs. Penhallow stood up and apparently at
perfect ease said, "You must have had a very tiresome journey."

"Not very," he returned, as he accepted a seat.

Then the little lady sat up and said, "You must pardon me if I say that
this consultation has been brought about by my nephew against my
husband's wishes."

"And your own?"

"Yes, my own."

"I so understand it. May I say in my defence that I missed your telegram
and only saw it when it was sent after me on the train, but now I am
here." She had not the courage to say what she would have liked to say,
and he went on. "General Hancock saw me a day or two back. What he said
of your husband gave me at once a personal interest in him. Isn't it
odd how one is brought to realize what a small place our world is? I was
at Port Delaware before the war ended and saw there--I was on inspection
duty--a Confederate Colonel, Henry Grey--a prisoner. Is he not a relation
of the handsome Miss Grey we met on the avenue?"

"My niece. He is my brother."

"Indeed! I gave some advice about his wound--it was not serious. May I
talk to you a little about your husband?"

She felt herself cornered, and could not escape without discourtesy,
of which she was quite incapable; "Or," he added, "may I not rather talk
first to Colonel Penhallow, an