possibilities which it
was difficult for him to make real to himself. It was all very well to
wait a while to be cured of the dread disease; but to wait three or four
years--that was simply preposterous!

He decided to consult another physician. He would find one this time who
would not be so particular, who would be willing to take some trouble
to cure him quickly. He began to notice the advertisements which
were scattered over the pages of the newspapers he read. There were
apparently plenty of doctors in Paris who could cure him, who were
willing to guarantee to cure him. After much hesitation, he picked out
one whose advertisement sounded the most convincing.

The office was located in a cheap quarter. It was a dingy place, not
encumbered with works of art, but with a few books covered with dust.
The doctor himself was stout and greasy, and he rubbed his hands with
anticipation at the sight of so prosperous-looking a patient. But he was
evidently a man of experience, for he knew exactly what was the matter
with George, almost without the formality of an examination. Yes,
he could cure him, quickly, he said. There had recently been great
discoveries made--new methods which had not reached the bulk of the
profession. He laughed at the idea of three or four years. That was
the way with those specialists! When one got forty francs for a
consultation, naturally, one was glad to drag out the case. There were
tricks in the medical trade, as in all others. A doctor had to live;
when he had a big name, he had to live expensively.

The new physician wrote out two prescriptions, and patted George on the
shoulder as he went away. There was no need for him to worry; he would
surely be well in three months. If he would put off his marriage for six
months, he would be doing everything within reason. And meantime, there
was no need for him to worry himself--things would come out all right.
So George went away, feeling as if a mountain had been lifted from his
shoulders.

He went to see Henriette that same evening, to get the matter
settled. "Henriette," he said, "I have to tell you something very
important--something rather painful. I hope you won't let it disturb you
too much."

She was gazing at him in alarm. "What is it?"

"Why," he said, blushing in spite of himself, and regretting that he had
begun the matter so precipitately, "for some time I've not been feeling
quite well. I've been having a slight cough. Have you no