ur voters' list! It's getting late!"

George Brotherton looked blankly at the group. In every face but the
Doctor's a genuine sorrow for their friend was marked. "Doc," Brotherton
began apologetically, "I guess I'll just have to get you to let me off
to-night!" He hesitated; then as he saw the company around him backing
him up, "Why, Doc, the way I feel right now I don't care if the whole
county ticket is licked! I can't work to-night, Doc--I just can't!"

The Doctor's face as he listened, changed. It was as though another soul
had come upon the deck of his countenance. He answered softly in his
piping voice, "No man could, George--after that!" Then turning to Grant
the Doctor said gently, as one reminded of a forgotten purpose:

"Come along with me, Grant." They mounted the stairs to the Doctor's
office and when the door was closed the Doctor motioned Grant to a chair
and piped sharply: "Grant, Kenyon is wearing your mother's life out.
I've just been down to see her. Look here, Grant, I want to know about
Margaret? Does she ever come to see you folks--how does she treat
Kenyon?"

Looking at the floor, Grant answered slowly, "Well she rode down on her
wheel on his first birthday--slipped in when we were all out but mother,
and cried and went on about her poor child, mother said, and left him a
pair of little knit slippers. And she wrote him a birthday card the
second time, but we didn't hear from her this time." He paused. "She
never looks at him on the street, and she's just about quit speaking to
me. But last winter, she came down and cried around one afternoon.
Mother sent for her, I think."

"Why!" asked the Doctor quickly.

"Well," hesitated Grant, "it was when mother was first taken sick. I
think father and mother thought maybe Maggie might see things
different--well, about Kenyon." He stopped.

"Maggie and you?" prompted the Doctor.

"Well, something like that, perhaps," replied the boy.

The Doctor pushed back in his chair abruptly and cut in shrilly, "They
still think you and Margaret should marry on account of Kenyon?" Grant
nodded. "Do you want to marry her?" The Doctor leaned forward in his
chair, watching the boy. The Doctor saw the flash of revulsion that
spread over the youth's face before Grant raised his head, and met the
Doctor's keen gaze and answered soberly, "I would if it was best."

"Well," the Doctor returned as if to himself. "I suppose so." To the
younger man, he said: "Grant, she wo