ough, of course, as you have had the trouble of coming here, I should
be glad to have a note of your fees."

When Dr. Mason had departed, looking very disgusted, and his friend,
the specialist, very amused, Sir John listened to all the young
physician had to say about the case.

"Now, I'll tell you what," said he, when he had finished. "I'm a man
of my word, d'ye see? When I like a man I freeze to him. I'm a good
friend and a bad enemy. I believe in you, and I don't believe in
Mason. From now on you are my doctor, and that of my family. Come and
see my wife every day. How does that suit your book?"

"I am extremely grateful to you for your kind intentions toward me, but
I am afraid there is no possible way in which I can avail myself of
them."

"Heh! what d'ye mean?"

"I could not possibly take Dr. Mason's place in the middle of a case
like this. It would be a most unprofessional act."

"Oh, well, go your own way!" cried Sir John, in despair. "Never was
such a man for making difficulties. You've had a fair offer and you've
refused it, and now you can just go your own way."

The millionaire stumped out of the room in a huff, and Dr. Horace
Wilkinson made his way homeward to his spirit-lamp and his
one-and-eightpenny tea, with his first guinea in his pocket, and with a
feeling that he had upheld the best traditions of his profession.

And yet this false start of his was a true start also, for it soon came
to Dr. Mason's ears that his junior had had it in his power to carry
off his best patient and had forborne to do so. To the honour of the
profession be it said that such forbearance is the rule rather than the
exception, and yet in this case, with so very junior a practitioner and
so very wealthy a patient, the temptation was greater than is usual.
There was a grateful note, a visit, a friendship, and now the
well-known firm of Mason and Wilkinson is doing the largest family
practice in Sutton.

THE CURSE OF EVE.

Robert Johnson was an essentially commonplace man, with no feature to
distinguish him from a million others. He was pale of face, ordinary
in looks, neutral in opinions, thirty years of age, and a married man.
By trade he was a gentleman's outfitter in the New North Road, and the
competition of business squeezed out of him the little character that
was left. In his hope of conciliating customers he had become cringing
and pliable, until working ever in the same routine from day to