n
veins, the purple hue, they were calm. Eugene could scarcely believe it,
but he made an intense effort to appear calm himself. So this was
childbirth!

In a few moments Dr. Willets came in. He also was calm, business like,
energetic. He was dressed in a black suit and white linen jacket, but
took that off, leaving the room as he did so, and returned with his
sleeves rolled up and his body incased in a long white apron, such as
Eugene had seen butchers wear. He went over to Angela and began working
with her, saying something to the nurse beside him which Eugene did not
hear. He could not look--he dared not at first.

At the fourth or fifth convulsive shriek, a second doctor came in, a
young man of Willets' age, and dressed as he was, who also took his
place beside him. Eugene had never seen him before. "Is it a case of
forceps?" he asked.

"I can't tell," said the other. "Dr. Lambert is handling this
personally. He ought to be here by now."

There was a step in the hall and the senior physician or obstetrician
had entered. In the lower hall he had removed his great coat and fur
gloves. He was dressed in his street clothes, but after looking at
Angela, feeling her heart and temples, he went out and changed his coat
for an apron, like the others. His sleeves were rolled up, but he did
not immediately do anything but watch the house surgeon, whose hands
were bloody.

"Can't they give her chloroform?" asked Eugene, to whom no one was
paying any attention, of Miss De Sale.

She scarcely heard, but shook her head. She was busy dancing attendance
on her very far removed superiors, the physicians.

"I would advise you to leave the room," said Dr. Lambert to Eugene,
coming over near him. "You can do nothing here. You will be of no
assistance whatsoever. You may be in the way."

Eugene left, but it was only to pace agonizedly up and down the hall. He
thought of all the things that had passed between him and Angela--the
years--the struggles. All at once he thought of Myrtle, and decided to
call her up--she wanted to be there. Then he decided for the moment he
would not. She could do nothing. Then he thought of the Christian
Science practitioner. Myrtle could get her to give Angela absent
treatment. Anything, anything--it was a shame that she should suffer so.

"Myrtle," he said nervously over the phone, when he reached her, "this
is Eugene. Angela is suffering terribly. The birth is on. Can't you get
Mrs. Johns to hel