serious matter to me at any time, but at
this moment it is impossible."

I gave him a good long look. He didn't strike me as a borrowing kind of
man. I should probably insult him by volunteering. Was there ever
anything so unfortunate?

"I can't go," he repeated with a little choke.

"You may never have another opportunity," I said. "Eleanor is doing a
thing I should never have expected from one of her proud and reserved
nature. The advances of such a woman--"

He interrupted me with a groan.

"If it wasn't for my mother I'd throw everything to the winds and fly to
her," he burst out. "But I have a mother--a sainted mother, Mr.
Westoby--her welfare must always be my first consideration!"

"Is there no chance of anything turning up?" I said. "An appendicitis
case--an outbreak of measles? I thought there was a lot of scarlatina
just now."

He shook his head dejectedly.

"Doctor," I began again, "I am pretty well fixed myself. I'm blessed
with an income that runs to five figures. If all goes the way it should
we shall be brothers-in-law in six months. We are almost relations. Give
me the privilege of taking over this small obligation--"

I never saw a man so overcome. My proposal seemed to tear the poor devil
to pieces. When he spoke his voice was trembling.

"You don't know what it means to me to refuse," he said. "My
self-respect ... my--my...." And then he positively began to weep!

"You said three hundred and four dollars and seventy-five cents, I
believe?"

He waved it from him with a long, lean hand.

"I can not do it," he said; "and, for God's sake, don't ask me to!"

I argued with him for twenty minutes; I laid the question before him in
a million lights; I racked him with a picture of Eleanor, so deeply
hurt, so mortified, that in her recklessness and despair she would
probably throw herself away on the first man that offered! This was his
chance, I told him; the one chance of his life; he was letting a piece
of idiotic pride wreck the probable happiness of years. He agreed with
me with moans and weeps. He had the candor of a child and the torrential
sentiment of a German musician. Three hundred and four dollars and
seventy-five cents stood between him and eternal bliss, and yet he waved
my pocketbook from him! And all the while I saw myself losing Freddy.

I went away with his "no, no, no!" still ringing in my ears.

At the club I found a note from Freddy. She pressed me to lose no time.
Mrs.