announcement did not come as a surprise to old Mr. Thorpe. He had been
expecting it. He realised that Braden's dilatory tactics alone were
accountable for the delay in bringing the issue to a head.

"And when do you expect to be married?" he had inquired, squinting at his
grandson in a somewhat dubious manner.

"Within the year, I hope," said Braden. "Of course, I shall have to get a
bit of a start before we can think of getting married."

"A bit of a start, eh? Expect to get enough of a practice in a year to
keep Anne going, do you?"

"We shall live very economically."

"Is that your idea or hers?"

"She knows that I have but little more than two thousand a year, but, of
course, it won't take much of a practice to add something to that, you
know."

"Besides, you can always depend upon me to help you out, Braden,--that is,
within reason," said the other, watching him narrowly out of his shrewd
old eyes.

Braden flushed. "You have done more than enough for me already,
grandfather. I can't take anything more, you see. I'm going to fight my
own way now, sir."

"I see," said Mr. Thorpe. "That's the way to talk, my boy. And what does
Anne say to that?"

"She thinks just as I do about it. Oh, she's the right sort, granddaddy,
so you needn't worry about us, once we are married."

"Perhaps I should have asked what her mother has to say about it."

"Well, she gave us her blessing," said his grandson, with a happy grin.

"After she had heard about your plan to live on the results of your
practice?"

"She said she wasn't going to worry about that, sir. If Anne was willing
to wait, so was she."

"Wait for what?"

"My practice to pick up, of course. What do you mean?"

"Just that, of course," said the old man quickly. "Well, my boy, while I
daresay it isn't really necessary, I give my consent. I am sure you and
Anne will be very happy in your cosy little five-room flat, and that she
will be a great help to you. You may even attain to quite a fashionable
practice,--or clientele, which is it?--through the Tresslyn position in the
city. Thousand dollar appendicitis operations ought to be quite common
with you from the outset, with Anne to talk you up a bit among the people
who belong to her set and who are always looking for something to keep
them from being bored to death. I understand that anybody who has an
appendix nowadays is looked upon as exceedingly vulgar and is not even
tolerated in good society. As for