at when they should be on their good behavior they
can't keep from snapping at each other. I was over there this
afternoon, and when Mr. Brooks came home he began to growl about the
preacher's coming once a week to pray for Mrs. Colton. He ought to be
ashamed of himself. The poor old creature lies there so helpless; and
he wants to deny her even the consolation of hearing her pastor's
voice. And he knows that she was so devoted to the church."

"My daughter," Witherspoon gravely said, "there must be some mistake
about this."

"But I know that there isn't any mistake about it. I was there, I tell
you."

"And still there may be some mistake," Witherspoon insisted.

"What doctor's treating the old lady?" Henry asked.

"A celebrated specialist, Brooks tells me," Witherspoon answered.

"What's his name?"

"I don't remember," said Witherspoon. "Do you know, Ellen?"

"Doctor Linmarck," Ellen answered.

"Let us not think of anything so very unpleasant," said Mrs.
Witherspoon.

But the spirit of pleasantry was flown. With another imitation of Miss
Miller, Ellen strove to call it back, but failed, for Witherspoon paid
no attention to her. He sat brooding, with a countenance as fixed as
the expression of a mask, and in his gaze, bent on that nothing
through which nothing can be seen, there was no light.

"Father, do your new slippers fit?" Mrs. Witherspoon asked. He was not
George now.

"Very nicely," he answered, with a warning absentmindedness.
Presently he went to the library, and shutting out the amenities of
that cheerful evening, shut in his own somber brooding.

"I don't see why he should let that worry him so," said Mrs.
Witherspoon. "He's getting to be so sensitive over Brooks."

"I don't think it's his sensitiveness over Brooks, mother," Ellen
replied, "but the fact that he is gradually finding out that Brooks is
not so perfect as he pretends to be."

"I don't know," the mother rejoined, "but I think he has just as much
confidence in Brooks as he ever had. I know he said last night that
the Colossus couldn't get along without him."

"Ellen," said Henry, "what is the name of that doctor?"

"Linmarck. It isn't so hard to remember, is it?"

"No, but I forgot it."

Immediately after reaching the office the next day, Henry sent for a
reporter who had lived so long in Chicago that he was supposed
thoroughly to know the city.

"Are you acquainted with Doctor Linmarck?" Henry asked when the
reporter en