so
eager-eyed--and, except that there was no melancholy in his face,
perhaps he did.

"Got a job for you." The old man's voice was nasal and harsh without
being disagreeable.

Grown sensitive, Thor was on his guard. "Not one of your jobs that are
given away with a pound of tea?" he said, suspiciously.

"I don't know about the pound of tea--but it's given away. Giving it
away because I can't deal with it myself. Calls for some one with more
ingenuity--so I've told 'em about you."

Thor laughed. "Don't wonder you're willing to give it up, Uncle Sim."

"You'll wonder still less when you've seen the patient. By the way, it's
Fay's wife. 'Member old Fay, don't you?"

The young man nodded. "Used to be Grandpa Thorley's gardener. Has the
greenhouses on father's land north of the pond. Some sort of row going
on between him and father now. What's she got?"

"It's not what she's got, poor woman; it's what she hasn't got. That's
what's the matter with her."

"I'm afraid it's a variety of symptom I never heard of."

"No; but you'll hear of it soon. Whoa, Delia! Steady! Good girl! If you
can treat it you'll be the most distinguished specialist in the country.
Whoa, Delia! I'm giving you the chance to begin."

Thor wondered what was at the back of the old fellow's mind. There was
generally something in what he said if you could think it out. "Since
you've diagnosed the case, Uncle Sim--" he began, craftily.

"Can't I give you a tip for the treatment? No, I can't. And it wouldn't
do any good if I did, because she won't take my medicine."

"Perhaps I could make her."

The old man laughed harshly. "You! That's good. Why, you'd be the first
to make game of it yourself."

He had his left foot in the stirrup and his right leg over Delia's back
before Thor could formulate another question. As with head thrown back
he continued his amused chuckling, there was about him, in spite of his
sixty years, a something irresponsible and debonair that would have
pleased Franz Hals or Simon de Vos.

* * * * *

Within ten minutes Thor was knocking at the door of a small house with a
mansard roof, situated in what had once been the apple-orchard of a
farm. All but a sparse half-dozen of the trees had given place to lines
of hothouses, through the glass of which he could see oblongs of vivid
green. He was so preoccupied with the fact of paying his first visit to
his first patient as scarcely to notice tha