reaching out, picked up a folded sheet of paper from the table and
handed it to the Doctor.

"Read that, will you?" he asked. "And read it out loud."

With a slight protest of diffidence, the Doctor unfolded the paper,
scanned the page for an instant, and began slowly.

"Carl of Mine.

"There's one thing I forgot to tell you. When you go to buy
my engagement ring--I don't want any! No! I'd rather have
two wedding-rings instead--two perfectly plain gold
wedding-rings. And the ring for my passive left hand I want
inscribed, 'To Be a Sweetness More Desired than Spring!' and
the ring for my active right hand I want inscribed, 'His
Soul to Keep!' Just that.

"And you needn't bother to write me that you don't
understand, because you are not expected to understand. It
is not Man's prerogative to understand. But you are
perfectly welcome if you want, to call me crazy, because I
am--utterly crazy on just one subject, and _that's you_.
Why, Beloved, if--"

"Here!" cried Stanton suddenly reaching out and grabbing the letter.
"Here! You needn't read any more!" His cheeks were crimson.

The Doctor's eyes focused sharply on his face. "That girl loves you,"
said the Doctor tersely. For a moment then the Doctor's lips puffed
silently at his pipe, until at last with an almost bashful gesture, he
cried out abruptly: "Stanton, somehow I feel as though I owed you an
apology, or rather, owed your fiancee one. Somehow when you told me
that day that your young lady had gone gadding off to Florida
and--left you alone with your sickness, why I thought--well, most
evidently I have misjudged her."

Stanton's throat gave a little gasp, then silenced again. He bit his
lips furiously as though to hold back an exclamation. Then suddenly
the whole perplexing truth burst forth from him.

"That isn't from my fiancee!" he cried out. "That's just a
professional love-letter. I buy them by the dozen,--so much a week."
Reaching back under his pillow he extricated another letter. "_This_
is from my fiancee," he said. "Read it. Yes, do."

"Aloud?" gasped the Doctor.

Stanton nodded. His forehead was wet with sweat.

"DEAR CARL,

"The weather is still very warm. I am riding horseback
almost every morning, however, and playing tennis almost
every afternoon. There seem to be an exceptionally large
number of interesting people here this winter. In rega