onsoled and pampered, and the raw wound which still bled
from the knife so unsparingly applied the day before, was to be blandly
ignored. He felt both hurt and angry.

But the roast chicken was very good, and so was the currant tart with
cream--and he had covered many miles on an empty stomach, and was young,
and as a rule, ravenous. For the life of him he could not help clearing
his plate.

And next he found himself responding with alacrity to the suggestion of
coffee in the cool shade without, for the atmosphere of the little
dining-room had grown somewhat warm and odorous, pervaded by hot
dishes--while even a prospective _tete-a-tete_ with his host was not
altogether distasteful, since he was to be permitted to smoke.

And though he told himself he would not for worlds have Leonore's name
enter into the conversation, in reality he was listening for it, waiting
for it.

He had to wait however.

"It's a queer life, that of a country doctor;" the elder man laid down
his pipe musingly. "A queer life--but it has its compensations. There's
much to be given up, much to be done without,--there's struggle and
hardship to begin with--strain and anxiety always,--but taken as a
whole, it yields a satisfaction--Tommy, I often think there's no life
on earth meets with such clear recompense for the outlay, be the outlay
what it may."

"Yes, sir; I suppose so, sir;" absently.

"Human nature craves appreciation," the speaker slackened his big-limbed
frame afresh, and puffed luxuriously, "to be watched for and welcomed
and--and appreciated--there is no other word for it--wherever one goes,
_is_ something, who can deny it? One may never rise to eminence, one
may be humble and obscure, as the world has it, all one's days, and
yet----" again he paused.

"Yes, sir?" But at the second "Yes, sir," Dr. Craig roused himself.

"You aren't following me, Tommy. You think you knew all this before, and
it sounds like a dull droning in your ears. Isn't it so, my boy?"

"I'm afraid I'm very poor company, sir. But you--you know what makes me
so."

"And you would like to talk about it, and find every other subject
uninteresting? Maybe you're right. What is it then? _Her_, I suppose?"
And a faint smile, not unkindly, accompanied the last words.

"I do want you to believe that she is not to blame. I can't get over
it, your saying what you did. You seemed to infer that I had been
befooled and----"

"If you had, you are not the first--but