there dark circles under his eyes--or
are there not?" he ended in senile triumph.

"There are," she began, puzzled, "but I--but of what interest to me--"

"Compare his symptoms with the symptoms in that book you are studying,"
said the old gentleman hoarsely.

"Do you mean--do you suppose--" she stammered, turning her eyes on
Carden, who promptly blushed to his ears and began to fidget.

"_Every symptom_," muttered the old gentleman. "Poor, poor young man!"

She had seen Carden turn a vivid pink; she now saw him fidget with his
walking stick; she discovered the blue circles under his eyes. Three
symptoms at once!

"Do you believe it _possible_?" she whispered excitedly under her breath
to the old gentleman beside her. "It seems incredible! Such a rare
disease! Only one single case ever described and studied! It seems
impossible that I could be so fortunate as actually to see a case! Tell
me, Dr. Atwood, do you believe that young man is really afflicted with
Lamour's Disease?"

"There is but one way to be absolutely certain," said the old gentleman
in a solemn voice, "and that is to study him; corroborate your
suspicions by observing his pulse and temperature, as did Dr. Lamour."

"But--how can I?" she faltered. "I--he would probably object to becoming
a patient of mine--"

"Ask him, child! Ask him."

"I have not courage--"

"Courage should be the badge of your profession," said the old
gentleman gravely. "When did a good physician ever show the white
feather in the cause of humanity?"

"I--I know, but this requires a different sort of courage."

"How," persisted the old gentleman, "can you confirm your very natural
suspicions concerning this unfortunate young man unless you corroborate
your observations by studying him at close range? Besides, already it
seems to me that certain unmistakable signs are visible; I mean that
strange physical phase which Dr. Lamour dwells on: the symmetry of
feature and limb, the curiously spiritual beauty. Do you not notice
these? Or is my sight so dim that I only imagine it?"

"He is certainly symmetrical--and--in a certain way--almost handsome in
regard to features," she admitted, looking at Carden.

"Poor, poor boy!" muttered the old gentleman, wagging his gray whiskers.
"I am too old to help him--too old to dream of finding a remedy for the
awful malady which I am now convinced has seized him. I shall study him
no more. It is useless. All I can do now is to mention hi