lady in a peevish whisper,
every word of which reached the visitor's ears. "Oh dear me, I wish
Fred was not so good-looking. Well, it's only another fortnight. I
begin to think he ought to be married at once."

CHAPTER TWO.

A STRANGE CASE.

Two gloveless hands caught Dr Chester's as he entered his
consulting-room, and a strange thrill ran through him as a beautiful
face, wild-eyed and agitated, was thrust close to his.

"Dr Chester? Oh, at last! Come--quickly! before it is too late."

"Pray be calm," he said, motioning his visitor to a seat, but she threw
back her head.

"Come!" she cried imperiously. "The brougham is at the door. Quick!
He is dying."

"Pray explain yourself, madam," said the doctor.

"Oh, how can you be so cold-blooded? Man, I tell you that Robert is
dying. He must not--he shall not die. Come--come!"

"But, my dear madam!"

"I'll explain everything as we go," cried the visitor, passionately, as
she drew him towards the door. "A terrible accident. Come and save his
life."

At another time Fred Chester might have hesitated, but there was a
strange magnetism in the eyes of his beautiful visitor--an appeal in the
quivering lip. Every feature was drawn by the agitation from which she
suffered. It was his profession to help in emergencies--evidently some
terrible crisis had arisen, and he felt it impossible to resist.

He threw open the door, there was a faint gasp of satisfaction as he
caught up his hat, and the next moment, with his visitor holding still
tightly by his hand, he was descending the broad steps, perfectly
ignorant of the fact that Aunt Grace was standing at the top of the
first flight of stairs, watching intently.

By the light of the gas lamps Chester saw a handsomely-appointed
brougham drawn up at the kerb. His companion said the one word "Home,"
then stepped quickly into the carriage, the doctor followed, and they
were driven off at a rapid pace.

The night was dark, and it was by flashes of the lamps they passed that
he had glimpses of the beautiful, quivering face leaning earnestly
toward his. He was conscious of the delicate scent emanating from the
dress; the warm perfumed breath reached his face, and there was, as it
were, a magic in the contact with her rustling robe, as they sped along
the streets. A wild intoxication seemed to have seized upon him in
those moments, before he could master himself sufficiently to say--

"Will you explain the