only two meals a day,
morning and evening, take at least eight hours' rest every night, give
up lounging about in your club, occupy yourself--with work for others,
if possible. I believe that to be the most tonic work there is--and I
see no reason why you should not be a centenarian."

"I--a centenarian?"

"Why not! There is nothing the matter with you, unless you think there
is."

"Nothing--you say there is nothing the matter with me!"

"I have examined you, and that is my opinion."

The face of the patient flushed with indignation at this insult.

"I came to you to be told what was the matter."

"And I am glad to inform you nothing is the matter--with your body."

"Do you mean to imply that my mind is diseased?"

"No. But you don't give it enough to think about. You only give it
yourself. And that isn't nearly enough."

Sir Henry rose, and put a trembling finger into his waistcoat-pocket.

"I believe I owe you--?"

"Nothing. But if you care to put something into the box on my hall
table, you will help some poor man to get away to the seaside after an
operation, and find out what is the best medicine in the world."

"And now for Mrs. Chepstow!" the Doctor murmured to himself, as the door
closed behind the outraged back of an enemy.

He sat still for a minute or two, expecting to see the door open again,
the form of a woman framed in the doorway. But no one came. He began to
feel restless. He was not accustomed to be kept waiting by his patients,
although he often kept them waiting. There was a bell close to his
elbow. He touched it, and his man-servant instantly appeared.

"Mrs. Chepstow is down for five-thirty. It is now"--he pulled out his
watch--"nearly ten minutes to six. Hasn't she come?"

"No, sir. Two or three people have been, without appointments."

"And you have sent them away, of course? Quite right. Well, I shan't
stay in any longer."

He got up from his chair.

"And if Mrs. Chepstow should come, sir?"

"Explain to her that I waited till ten minutes to six and then--" He
paused. The hall door-bell was ringing sharply.

"If it is Mrs. Chepstow, shall I admit her now, sir?"

The doctor hesitated, but only for a second.

"Yes," he said.

And he sat down again by his table.

He had been almost looking forward to the arrival of his last patient of
that day, but now he felt irritated at being detained. For a moment he
had believed his day's work to be over, and in that moment the hu