Cumberly?"

"Certainly, M. Gaston," replied the physician--he was officiating at the
syphon. "Say when."

"When!" said Max. "I should like to see you in Harley Street to-morrow
morning."

Cumberly glanced up oddly. "Nothing wrong, I hope?"

"Oh, not professionally," smiled Max; "or perhaps I should say only
semi-professionally. Can you spare me ten minutes?"

"My book is rather full in the morning, I believe," said Cumberly,
frowning thoughtfully, "and without consulting it--which, since it is
in Harley Street, is impossible--I scarcely know when I shall be at
liberty. Could we not lunch together?"

Max blew a ring of smoke from his lips and watched it slowly dispersing.

"For certain reasons," he replied, and his odd American accent became
momentarily more perceptible, "I should prefer that my visit had the
appearance of being a professional one."

Cumberly was unable to conceal his surprise, but assuming that his
visitor had good reason for the request, he replied after a moment's
reflection:

"I should propose, then, that you come to Harley Street at, shall we
say, 9.30? My earliest professional appointment is at 10. Will that
inconvenience you?"

"Not at all," Max assured him; "it will suit me admirably."

With that the matter dropped for the time, since Helen and her
new friend now reentered; and although Helen's manner was markedly
depressed, Miss Ryland energetically turned the conversation upon the
subject of the play which they had witnessed that evening.

M. Max, when he took his departure, found that the rain had ceased, and
accordingly he walked up Whitehall, interesting himself in those details
of midnight London life so absorbing to the visitor, though usually
overlooked by the resident.

Punctually at half-past nine, a claret-colored figure appeared in sedate
Harley Street. M. Gaston Max pressed the bell above which appeared:

DR. BRUCE CUMBERLY.

He was admitted by Garnham, who attended there daily during the hours
when Dr. Cumberly was visible to patients, and presently found himself
in the consulting room of the physician.

"Good morning, M. Gaston!" said Cumberly, rising and shaking his visitor
by the hand. "Pray sit down, and let us get to business. I can give you
a clear half-hour."

Max, by way of reply, selected a card from one of the several divisions
of his card-case, and placed it on the table. Cumberly glanced at it and
started slightly, turning and surveying his visi