was not richer in its
bloom than that in Charlotte's cheeks, nor the sparkle of the lights more
attractive than that in Ellen's dark eyes. As for the two men--all the
possible achievement of forceful manhood seemed written in their faces,
so different in feature and colouring, so alike in the look of dominant
purpose and the power born of will and untiring labour.

During dinner a telephone call summoned Leaver to a consultation.
Immediately at its close he went away, carrying Burns with him.

"You can't take me to a consultation, Jack," Burns had objected, with,
however, a betraying light of eagerness in his eye. He had been four
months away from work--he was hungry for it as a starving man for food.

"Can't I?" Leaver answered, coolly. "Come along and see. It's a chance
to give the patient the opinion of an eminent specialist just back from
Berlin."

"I'm no specialist."

"Aren't you? I think you are. Specialist in human nature, which, if the
reports of this case are true, is the particular sort of diagnosis called
for. Trust me, Red, and--put on your gloves!"

Burns had grinned over this suggestion. He hated gloves and seldom
wore them, but out of consideration for his friend--and Baltimore--he
extracted a pair of irreproachable ones, fresh from Berlin, and donned
them, with only a derisive word for the uselessness of externals as
practised by city professionals.

Left alone with Charlotte, in a pleasant corner of a stately library, by
an open window through which she had watched the departure of the two men
in the landau, Ellen turned to her.

"I can't tell you," she said, "how happy it makes me to see your
happiness. John Leaver is so exactly the man, out of all the world, who
is the husband for you. From all I know of you both, it seems to me
I never saw a pair more perfectly mated."

"I'm glad it looks so from the outside," breathed Charlotte, softly. She
too had watched the departing pair; waving her hand as her husband, under
the electric light at the entrance, had turned to lift his hat and signal
farewell. She still stood by the window, through which the soft air of
the May night touched her warm cheek and stirred the lace about her white
shoulders. "From the inside--O Len,--I can't tell you how it looks! I
didn't know there was such glory in the world!"

* * * * *

"What do you think this fellow has done?" cried Red Pepper Burns,
returning with his host at midnight