hand and forearm for a temporary roller to show it off.

"Oh! no; not that," he said, nodding appreciatively at the towel while
he talked of something else. "I suppose I ought to be sorry for the poor
girl, and her mother does take on dreadfully. But this case'll explode
that faith-quackery if anything can. The Christian Science doctor, Miss
Cullender, or something of the sort, made her great sensation over this
girl, who had some trouble in her back and a good deal the matter with
her nerves."

"She's the one there was so much talk about, is she?" asked Mrs.
Beswick, showing more animation than sympathy.

"Yes; when her mind had been sufficiently excited she believed herself
cured, and got up and even walked a little in the square. That's what
gave the woman faith-doctor her run. I don't know much about the
faith-doctor, but she's made a pretty penny, first and last, out of this
Schulenberg case, I'll bet. Now the girl's going to die out of hand, and
I understand from the mother that the faith-cure won't work. The
faith-doctor's thrown up the case."

"I suppose the faith-doctor believes in herself," said the wife.

"Naah!" said the doctor with that depth of contempt which only a rather
young man can express. "She? She's a quack and a humbug. Making money
out of religion and tomfoolery. I'll give her a piece of my mind if she
ever crosses my track or meddles with my patients."

Crowing is a masculine foible, and this sort of brag is the natural
recreation of a young man in the presence of femininity.

Two hours later, a frugal dinner of soup and bread and butter having
been served and eaten in the mean time, and Mrs. Beswick having also
washed a double set of plate, cup, saucer, knife, and fork,--there were
no tumblers; it seemed more affectionate and social in this turtle-dove
stage to drink water from a partnership cup,--the afternoon hung a
little heavy on their hands. It was not his day at the dispensary, and
so there was nothing for the doctor to do but to read a medical journal
and wait for patients who did not come, while his wife sat and sewed.
They essayed to break the ennui a little by a conversation which
consisted in his throwing her a kiss upon his hand, now and then, and
her responding with some term of endearment. But even this grew
monotonous. Late in the afternoon the bell rang, and the doctor opened
the door. There entered some one evidently not of Mackerelville, a
modestly well-dressed young la