great deal of a fool in your day--before you blossomed out. Do you
remember the time Dory called you down for learning things to show off,
and how furious you got?"

Adelaide looked suddenly warm, though she laughed too. "Why did you ask
about Dr. Schulze's daughters?" she asked.

"I saw one of them this morning--a beauty, a tip-topper. And no nonsense
about her. As she's 'black,' I suppose her name is Madelene."

"Oh, I remember now!" exclaimed Adelaide. "Madelene is going to be a
doctor. They say she's got nerves of iron--can cut and slash like
her father."

Arthur was furious, just why he didn't know. No doubt what Del said was
true, but there were ways and ways of saying things. "I suppose there is
some sneering at her," said he, "among the girls who couldn't do
anything if they tried. It seems to me, if there is any profession a
woman could follow without losing her womanliness, it is that of doctor.
Every woman ought to be a doctor, whether she ever tries to make a
living out of it or not."

Adelaide was not a little astonished by this outburst.

"You'll be coming round to Dory's views of women, if you aren't
careful," said she.

"There's a lot of sense in what Dory says about a lot of things,"
replied Arthur.

Del sheered off. "How did the doctor say your hand is?"

"Oh--all right," said Arthur. "I'm going to work on Monday."

"Did he say you could?"

"No, but I'm tired of doing nothing. I've got to 'get busy' if I'm to
pull out of this mess."

His look, his tone made his words sound revolutionary. And, in fact, his
mood was revolutionary. He was puzzled at his own change of attitude. His
sky had cleared of black clouds; the air was no longer heavy and
oppressive. He wanted to work; he felt that by working he could
accomplish something, could deserve and win the approval of people who
were worthwhile--people like Madelene Schulze, for instance.

Next day he lurked round the corner below the doctor's house until he saw
him drive away; then he went up and rang the bell. This time it was the
"blonde" that answered--small and sweet, pink and white, with tawny hair.
This was disconcerting. "I couldn't get here earlier," he explained. "I
saw the doctor just driving away. But, as these bandages feel
uncomfortable, I thought perhaps his daughter--your sister, is she
not?--might--might fix them."

Walpurga looked doubtful. "I think she's busy," she said. "I don't like
to disturb her."

Just then Madele