d, and the
most conscientious man alive, always doing generous things for
people--you know you do, Archie--with nothing ahead of you but just one
sanatorium after another. I haven't much faith in this idea of your
going to the Rockies; you know you tried the Alps five years ago and the
altitude nearly killed you."

"I seem doomed to sit on the sidelines and watch the game," Archie
agreed gloomily.

"But sometimes, I think you yield too easily to discouragement. Please
don't think I mean to be unkind or unjust, but if at some turn of the
road you were obliged to put your back to the wall and fight for your
life! Really, dear, I think you would win the battle and be a very
different man afterward."

Archie smiled wanly. He had the lively imagination of the neurasthenic
and very often he had dreamed of vanquishing single-handed a dozen
enemies, or plunging into a burning house and staggering out half dead
bearing a helpless child in his arms. To look at him no one would
believe that he had a nerve in his tall frame. Once a friend carried him
off to a farm where an autocratic athletic trainer rejuvenated tired
business men; and Archie survived the heroic treatment and reappeared
bronzed and hardened and feeling better than he had ever felt in his
life. But a winter spent in an office and leisure to think of himself as
an invalid brought back the old apprehensions, and there being no one at
hand to drag him again to the trainer's, he renewed his acquaintance
with the waiting-rooms of specialists.

"There will be a few people in for dinner tonight," remarked Mrs.
Featherstone as he rose to go; "very simple, you know; and Howard just
telephoned that he can't possibly come, so if you can arrange it,
Archie--"

"All right, May. Weld and Coburn are in town and I was going to have
dinner with them at the Army and Navy, but if you really want me--"

"Oh, that's perfectly fine of you, Archie! You are splendid to break
your engagement with them when you three don't meet very often; but it
will be a real help to me to have you. It's so late now that I can't ask
any one else in Howard's place. And Isabel Perry will be here; you know
she's the dearest girl, and I always thought you really did like Isabel.
Her father lost all his money before he died and she's had a position as
gymnasium teacher in Miss Gordon's school. This summer she's to run a
girls' camp up in Michigan and she can't help making a splendid success
of it."

A