e
country. And what about the chaps that were going to put it out of
business? Eating out of its hand!"

Of Esme the old quack was quite as proud as of Hal. To him she embodied
and typified, in its extreme form, those things which all his money
could not buy. That she disliked the Certina business and made no secret
of the fact did not in the least interfere with a genuine liking between
herself and its proprietor. Dr. Surtaine could not discuss Certina with
Hal: there were too many wounds still open between them. But with Esme
he could, and often did. Her attitude struck him as nicely philosophic
and impersonal, if a bit disdainful. And in these days he had to talk to
some one, for he was swollen with a great and glorious purpose.

He announced it one resplendent fall day, having gone out to Greenvale
with that particular object in view, at an hour when he was sure that
Hal would be at the office.

"Esme, I'm going to make you a wedding present of Certina," he said.

"Never take it, Doctor," she replied, smiling up at him in friendly
recognition of what had come to be a subject of stock joke between them.

"I'm serious. I'm going to make you a wedding present of the Certina
business. I guess there aren't many brides get a gift of half a million
a year. Too bad I can't give it out to the newspapers, but it wouldn't
do."

"What on earth do you mean?" cried the astonished girl. "I couldn't take
it. Hal wouldn't let me."

"I'm going to give it up, for you. You think it ain't genteel and
high-toned, don't you?"

"I think it isn't honest."

"Not discussing business principles, to-day," retorted the Doctor
good-humoredly. "It's a question of taste now. You're ashamed of the
proprietary medicine game, aren't you, my dear?"

Esme laughed. Embarrassment with Dr. Surtaine was impossible. He was too
childlike. "A little," she confessed.

"You'd be glad if I quit it."

"Of course I would. I suppose you can afford it."

As if responding to the touch of a concealed spring, the Surtaine chest
protruded. "You find me something I can't afford, and I'll buy it!" he
declared. "But this won't even cost me anything in the long run. Esme,
did I ever tell you my creed?"

"'Certina Cures,'" suggested the girl mischievously.

"That's for business. I mean for everyday life. My creed is to let
Providence take care of folks in general while I look after me and
mine."

"It's practical, at least, if not altruistic."

"Me, and