p in now and then, but the doctor is right beside you,
and I've full confidence in him. I knew his father, and I know enough
about him to be sure that you're all right in his hands."

Lanse drew a long breath of relief. "I'm very thankful it's no worse,"
he said. "But, Doctor Forester, what are we to do about father and
mother? We can't tell them----"

"Tell them! No!" said Doctor Forester, with decision. "I wouldn't have
your mother told under any consideration, so long as the girl does well.
She would be back here on the next train and then we'd have something
worse than a broken patella on our hands. If there is any way by which
you can let your father know I should do that."

"I can, I think," said Lanse, thoughtfully. "We're to send them
general-delivery letters until they're settled, and father will get
those at the post-office and read them first."

"As to your other problems--housekeeping and all that, over which Celia
is several times more worried than over her own condition--can you
figure those out?"

"Yes, somehow."

"Good! Go up and tell her so. She thinks the house is going to
destruction without her. Good chance for the second violin. Too bad that
clever little orchestra will have to drop its practice for a few weeks.
I meant to run in some evening soon and hear you play. Well, I'm overdue
at the hospital. Good-by, Lanse--Doctor Churchill. Keep me posted
concerning the knee."

Then the busy surgeon, who had put off several engagements to come out
to the suburban town and look after the family of his old friend, whom
he had known and loved since their college days, was off in his
runabout, his chauffeur getting promptly under as much headway as the
law allows, and rushing him out of sight in a hurry.

Lanse turned to Doctor Churchill, who stood upon the porch beside him,
hat and case in hand.

"I'm mighty thankful you were so near," he said.

"Doctor Forester hasn't given you much choice," said the other man,
smiling. "I did my best to give you the chance of having some one of the
physicians you know here in town take charge of the case, but he
insisted on my keeping it. I should like, however, to be sure that you
are satisfied. You don't know me at all, you know."

The steady eyes were looking keenly at Lanse, and he felt the sincerity
in the words. He returned the scrutiny without speaking for an instant;
then he put out his hand.

"Somehow I feel as if I do," he said, slowly. "Anyhow, I'm