ught the girl considerably
eased the old man, and when the doctor came he found him breathing more
freely. But his face was quite grave after his examination was made.

'I suppose my hour's come?' said Abel Graham in a matter-of-fact way. 'I
don't think much of your fraternity,--I've never had many dealings with
you,--but I suppose you can tell a man what he generally knows himself,
that he'll soon be in grips with death?'

The doctor looked at him with an odd smile. He was a young man, fighting
his way up against fierce competition--an honest, straightforward
fellow, who knew and loved his work.

'You don't think highly of us, Mr. Graham, but I daresay we have our
uses. This young lady appears to be an accomplished nurse; she has done
the very best possible under the circumstances.'

He turned to Gladys, not seeking to hide his surprise at finding such a
fair young creature amid such surroundings. Walter Hepburn, standing in
the background, experienced a strange sensation when he saw that look.
Though he knew it not, it was his first jealous pang.

'I had to nurse my father often in such attacks,' Gladys answered, with
her quiet, dignified calm. 'If there is anything more I can do, pray
tell me, and I will follow your instructions faithfully.'

'There is not much we can do in such a case. I never heard anything so
foolhardy as to go off, as you say he did yesterday, driving through the
open country for hours on a March day. I don't think a man who takes
such liberties with himself can expect to escape the penalty, Mr.
Graham.'

'Well, well, it doesn't matter. If my hour's come, it's come, I suppose,
and that's the end of it,' he retorted irritably. 'How long will I
last?'

'Years, perhaps, with care--after this attack is conquered,' replied the
doctor; and the old man answered with a grim, sardonic smile.

'We'll see whether you or I am right,' he replied. 'You needn't stay any
longer just now.'

Gladys took the candle, and herself showed the doctor to the outer door.

'Will he really recover, do you think?' she asked, when they were out of
hearing.

'He may, but only with care. The lungs are much congested, and his
reserve of strength is small. What relation is he to you, may I ask?
Your grandfather?'

'No; my uncle?'

'And do you live here always?'

'Yes, this is my home,' Gladys answered, and she could scarcely forbear
a smile at the expression on the young doctor's face.

'Indeed! and you are c