sh to call in another physician,
I shall be glad to have you do so. Fix the time for consultation at any
hour before half-past ten o'clock, and I will meet him. After that I
shall be engaged professionally for two or three hours."

Dr. Angier returned with Mr. Ridley, and Dr. Hillhouse went to his
chamber to make ready for breakfast. His hands were so unsteady as he
made his toilette for the day that, in the face of what he had said to
his assistant only a little while before, he poured himself a glass of
wine and drank it off, remarking aloud as he did so, as if apologizing
for the act to some one invisibly present:

"I can't let this go on any longer."

The breakfast-bell rang, and the doctor sat down to get the better
nerve-sustainer of a good meal. But even as he reached his hand for the
fragrant coffee that his wife had poured for him, he felt a single dull
throb in one of his temples, and knew too well its meaning. He did not
lift the coffee to his mouth, but sat with a grave face and an
unusually quiet manner. He had made a serious mistake, and he knew it.
That glass of wine had stimulated the relaxed nerves of his stomach too
suddenly, and sent a shock to the exhausted brain. A slight feeling of
nausea was perceived and then came another throb stronger than the
first, and with a faint suggestion of pain. This was followed by a
sense of physical depression and discomfort.

"What's the matter, doctor?" asked his wife, who saw something unusual
in his manner.

"A feeling here that I don't just like," he replied, touching his
temple with a finger.

"Not going to have a headache?"

"I trust not. It would be a bad thing for me today."

He slowly lifted his cup of coffee and sipped a part of it.

"Late suppers and late hours may do for younger people," said Mrs.
Hillhouse. "_I_ feel wretched this morning, and am not surprised that
your nerves are out of order, nor that you should be threatened with
headache."

The doctor did not reply. He sipped his coffee again, but without
apparent relish, and, instead of eating anything, sat in an unusually
quiet manner and with a very sober aspect of countenance.

"I don't want a mouthful of breakfast," said Mrs. Hillhouse, pushing
away her plate.

"Nor I," replied the doctor; "but I can't begin to-day on an empty
stomach."

And he tried to force himself to take food, but made little progress in
the effort.

"It's dreadful about Archie Voss," said Mrs. Hillhouse.