ering how a woman of such
curiously harsh disposition could ever have been the victim of such a
passion as was attributed to her. It was almost inconceivable,
especially when she tried to picture the father, whom she had never
known, but who was reputed to be such an intensely human man, so full
of the many frailties of a Wall Street gambler.

Joan now saw the crystal lying in her aunt's lap. She saw, too, the
fevered eyes lifted to her face. And with an uncomfortable feeling of
disaster pending she moved across to the window-seat and flung herself
upon the pile of down cushions.

"I do hope you're not--not seeing things again, auntie," she said in
an anxious voice, her eyes fixed resentfully upon the detested
crystal. "You know Dr. Valmer forbade you--practicing for at least six
months," she added warningly.

"Dr. Valmer's a fool," came the sharp retort.

The girl flushed. It was not the words: it was the manner that could
so hurt. But this time she felt it her duty to continue. Her aunt's
health was seriously affected, and the doctor had warned her
personally about it.

"I dare say he is, auntie," she protested. "But you pay him good
dollars for being one. What is the use of it if you don't take his
advice?"

Just for a second a peculiar look flashed into Mercy's eyes. Then she
allowed them to drop to the crystal in her lap.

"Go and change your habit. It will keep you busy on your own affairs.
They need all your attention--just now."

The rudeness left Joan untouched. She was too seriously concerned.

Mercy Lascelles had only recently recovered from a bad nervous
breakdown, the result, so Dr. Valmer, the specialist, assured her, of
the enormous strain of her studies. He had warned Joan of the danger
to her aunt's mental balance, and begged her to use every effort to
keep her from her practice. But Joan found her task well-nigh
impossible, and the weight of her responsibility was heavy upon her.

She turned away to the window and gazed out. She was feeling rather
hopeless. There were other things worrying her too, small enough
things, no doubt, but sufficiently personal to trouble her youthful
heart and shadow all her thought with regret. She was rapidly learning
that however bright the outlook of her life might be there were always
clouds hovering ready to obscure the smiling of her sun.

She looked at the sky as though the movement were inspired by her
thought. There was the early summer sun blazing do