vily across the porch. We were at the door
before the bell could buzz, and in the disk of brightness sent down by
the porch light saw Nella bent half double, stumbling forward with a
man's arm draped across her shoulders. His feet scuffed blindly on the
boards, as though they had forgot the trick of walking, or as if all
strength had left his knees. His head hung forward, lolling drunkenly;
a spate of blood ran down his face and smeared his collar.

"Good Lord!" I gasped. "What----"

"Get him in the surgery--quick!" the girl commanded in a whisper. "I'm
afraid I rather overdid it."

Examination showed the cut across Ned's forehead was more bloody than
extensive, while the scalp-wound which plowed backward from his
hairline needed but a few quick stitches.

Nella whispered to us as we worked. "I got him to go riding with me in
my runabout. Just as we got here I let out a scream and swung the
wheel hard over to the right. I was braced for it, but Ned was
unprepared, and went right through the windshield when I ran the car
into the curb. Lord, I thought I'd killed him when I saw the
blood--you do think he'll come through all right, don't you, Doctor?"

"No thanks to you if he does, you little ninny!" I retorted angrily.
"You might have cut his jugular with your confounded foolishness.
If----"

"_S-s-sh_, he's coming out of it!" she warned. "Start talking to him
like a Dutch uncle; I'll be waiting in the study if you want me," and
with a tattoo of high heels she left us with our patient.

"Nella! Is she all right?" Ned cried as he half roused from the
surgery table. "We had an accident----"

"But certainly, _Monsieur_," de Grandin soothed. "You were driving
past our house when a child ran out before your car and _Mademoiselle_
was forced to swerve aside to keep from hitting it. You were cut about
the face, but she escaped all injury. Here"--he raised a glass of
brandy to the patient's lips--"drink this. Ah, so. That is better,
_n'est-ce-pas_?"

For a moment he regarded Ned in silence, then, abruptly: "You are
distrait, _Monsieur_. When we brought you in we were forced to give
you a small whiff of ether while we patched your cuts, and in your
delirium you said----"

The color which had come into Ned's cheeks as the fiery cognac warmed
his veins drained out again, leaving him as ghastly as a corpse. "Did
Nella hear me?" he asked hoarsely. "Did I blab----"

"Compose yourself, _Monsieur_," de Grandin bade. "She he