"Unless," with sudden mischief, "I wish you a comfortable bed all the
year round--and pleasant dreams, Louis."

"That is much," he answered dryly as he drew a cloud of smoke.

The doctor became anticipative.

Ruth's embarrassment was evident as she turned and offered him a cigar.

"Do you smoke?" she asked, holding out the box.

"Like a chimney," he replied, looking at her, but taking none, "and in
the same manner as other common mortals."

She stood still, but withdrew her hand a little as if repelling the hint
his words conveyed; whereupon he immediately selected a cigar, saying
as he did so, "So you were born in summer,--the time of all good things.
Well, 'Thy dearest wish, wish I thee,' and may it not pass in the
smoking!"

She swept him a deep, mock courtesy.

After this, Ruth sat a rather silent listener to the conversation. She
knew that they were discussing the pros and cons of the advantages for
a bachelor of club life over home life. She knew that Louis was making
some brilliantly cynical remarks,--asserting that the apparent privacy
of the latter was delusive, and that the reputed publicity of the former
was deceptive, as it was even more isolated than the latter. All of
which the doctor laughed down as untruly epigrammatic.

"Then there is only one loophole for the poor bachelor," Mrs. Levice
summed up, "and that is to marry. Louis complains of the club, and
thinks himself a sort of cynosure in a large household. You, Doctor,
complain of the want of coseyness in a bachelor establishment. To state
it simply, you need a wife."

"And oust my Pooh-ba! Madame, you do not know what a treasure that old
soldier of mine is. If I call him a veritable Martha, I shall but be
paying proper tribute to the neatness with which he keeps my house and
linen; he entertains my palate as deliciously as a Corinne her salon,
and--is never in my way or thoughts. Can you commend me any woman so
self-abnegatory?"

"Many women, but no wife, I am glad to say. But you need one."

"So! Pray explain wherein the lack is apparent."

"Oh, not to me, but--"

"You mean you consider a wife an adjunct to a doctor's certificate."

"It is a great guarantee with women," put in Louis, "as a voucher
against impatience with their own foibles. They think only home practice
can secure the adequate tolerance. Eh, Aunt Esther?"

"Nonsense, Louis!" interrupted Mr. Levice; "what has that to do with
skill?"

"Skill is one thing; the ma