s bandage. Suddenly he starts; scrutinizes closer,
turns it about, and looks again, then----

"Ah!" says Mr. Bathurst; "Oh! really!"

And he folds up his bandage, and puts it in one pocket, whips a clean
pocket handkerchief from another, and substituting it for the "rag,"
awaits the coming of his host.

"Very comfortable quarters," he muttered, looking about him, "Luxurious
too; quite so. Our doctor has not forgotten how people ought to live."

The doctor's "quarters" were all that he described them. Luxurious,
comfortable; and luxury and comfort do not always go hand in hand;
tasteful, too. Nothing too much; nothing lacking--just the beau-ideal of
a bachelor's parlor. Warm browns brightening here and there into bronze.
Books, a great many and of the best. Pictures, a very few, and all rare
and beautiful. Bronzes and statuettes in plenty. Bric-a-bric, not any,
for no fair and foolish woman has trailed her skirts through these
apartments, leaving traces of her presence in the shape of those small
and costly abominations, yclept "ceramics."

Presently Doctor Heath reappears, and not long after, Mrs. Gray bears in
a heaped-up tray of edibles. Then Doctor Heath sets forth brandy and
wine, and informs Mrs. Gray, through the medium of his ten fingers, that
she is dismissed for the night.

When she has retired the detective unties his face, and falls upon the
food spread before him, as a hungry man will. While he eats he talks a
little, just a random remark now and then, and his host sits opposite
him, answering his infrequent questions and observations, and thinking.

In past days, and under very different circumstances, these two men have
met and known each other, and Doctor Clifford Heath is wondering how
much of his story it will be necessary to tell, in order to explain his
present position, which, he knows, must seem a most strange one to his
former acquaintance; for Doctor Clifford Heath, like most of us who have
not passed a vegetable existence, has a history, and a past.

Of that fact, however, Mr. Bathurst seems quite oblivious, as he washes
down his repast with a glass of brandy and water, and pushes back his
chair from the table.

"Now, then," he begins, with his usual brisk business manner, "I'm
rested and refreshed, and all ready for that white wax, if you please,
Doctor Heath."

"I'm quite curious about that wax," says the doctor, rising. "Just let
me draw away this table and bring up another, it's th