em, but losing
their outlines in the shadows of the background. Theron had not heard of
him among the physicians of Octavius. He wondered if he might not be a
doctor of something else than medicine, and decided upon venturing the
question.

"Oh, yes, it is medicine," replied Ledsmar. "I am a doctor three or four
times over, so far as parchments can make one. In some other respects,
though, I should think I am probably less of a doctor than anybody else
now living. I haven't practised--that is, regularly--for many years, and
I take no interest whatever in keeping abreast of what the profession
regards as its progress. I know nothing beyond what was being taught in
the sixties, and that I am glad to say I have mostly forgotten."

"Dear me!" said Theron. "I had always supposed that Science was the most
engrossing of pursuits--that once a man took it up he never left it."

"But that would imply a connection between Science and Medicine!"
commented the doctor. "My dear sir, they are not even on speaking
terms."

"Shall we go upstairs?" put in the priest, rising from his chair. "It
will be more comfortable to have our coffee there--unless indeed, Mr.
Ware, tobacco is unpleasant to you?"

"Oh, my, no!" the young minister exclaimed, eager to free himself from
the suggestion of being a kill-joy. "I don't smoke myself; but I am very
fond of the odor, I assure you."

Father Forbes led the way out. It could be seen now that he wore a long
house-gown of black silk, skilfully moulded to his erect, shapely, and
rounded form. Though he carried this with the natural grace of a proud
and beautiful belle, there was no hint of the feminine in his bearing,
or in the contour of his pale, firm-set, handsome face. As he moved
through the hall-way, the five people whom Theron had seen waiting rose
from their bench, and two of the women began in humble murmurs, "If you
please, Father," and "Good-evening to your Riverence;" but the priest
merely nodded and passed on up the staircase, followed by his guests.
The people sat down on their bench again.

A few minutes later, reclining at his ease in a huge low chair, and
feeling himself unaccountably at home in the most luxuriously appointed
and delightful little room he had ever seen, the Rev. Theron Ware sipped
his unaccustomed coffee and embarked upon an explanation of his errand.
Somehow the very profusion of scholarly symbols about him--the great
dark rows of encased and crowded book-shel