Mathers thought that his complaint was _Angina Pectoris_. He
consulted a book on Pathology. He learnt that even with this
terrible disease a person might, by careful living, attain a certain
age.

This did not satisfy him. He consulted a doctor. When he was seated
in the medical man's waiting-room, it seemed to him that the doctor
was going to pronounce his doom. He fancied he could already hear
him: "You may, by taking care of yourself, live another year or
two."

The door of the room in which he was, opened. His heart gave a great
leap. "I wish you to auscultate me," he said, addressing the doctor
who entered the room.

Dr. Buisson looked at him with a scrutinizing glance as he replied:
"Very well, sir; step in the next room."

Frank followed the doctor into the room adjoining.

The medical man proceeded to auscultate his patient. After he had
completed his examination, Frank looked at him inquiringly. "_Angina
Pectoris_?" he questioned anxiously.

"No."

A sigh of relief escaped him.

Quoth Dr. Buisson: "You have already sighed a great deal too much.
You have overtaxed your strength. You must not live on passion, but
you ought to take life more easily, young man. Rest and
cheerfulness, with a few bottles of physic, will put you on your
legs again. Stimulants would benefit you."

"I do not wish to drink any alcohol," interrupted Frank.

"Who talks about alcohol? Do without stimulants. You do not need
them."

"I thought----" began Frank.

The grave voice of the doctor interrupted him. "Young man, you must
be careful about your diet; eat slowly--masticate well. Pass into
the dispensing room."

"What an odd man," thought Frank, as he wended towards his home.

He passed the next few weeks resting nearly all the time, taking
very little exercise and a great deal of physic. He gradually grew
better, his nervousness ceased, his heart resumed its normal
condition, it palpitated no more.

He tried to be cheerful, but he still had great faith in pessimism.

CHAPTER XVII.

THE EFFECTS OF A SERMON.

One Sunday, contrary to his habit, Frank betook himself to one of
the country churches. He had several reasons for doing so. He wanted
to hear a French sermon; he wanted to be quiet, away from the world,
etcetera.

As he went on his way, he dropped into a none too pleasant reverie.

"What a queer animal man is," he thought; "what a study. It is true
that 'the proper study of mankind is man.'

"B