w her
look of peace grow steadier, after a minute, he prepared the electric
battery. Softly he passed the sponges charged with their mysterious
current over her temples and her neck and down her slender arms and
blue-veined wrists, holding them for a while in the palms of her
hands, which grew rosy.

In all this the Baron had helped as he could, and watched closely, but
without a word. He was certainly not indifferent; neither was he
distressed; the expression of his black eyes and heavy, passionless
face was that of presence of mind, self-control covering an intense
curiosity. Carmichael conceived a vague sentiment of dislike for the
man.

When the patient rested easily they stepped outside the room together
for a moment.

"It is the _angina_, I suppose," droned the Baron, "hein? That is of
great inconvenience. But I think it is the false one, that is much
less grave--not truly dangerous, hein?"

"My dear sir," answered Carmichael, "who can tell the difference
between a false and a true _angina pectoris_, except by a post-mortem?
The symptoms are much alike, the result is sometimes identical, if the
paroxysm is severe enough. But in this case I hope that you may be
right. Your wife's illness is severe, dangerous, but not necessarily
fatal. This attack has passed and may not recur for months or even
years."

The lip-smile came back under the Baron's sullen eyes.

"Those are the good news, my dear doctor," said he, slowly. "Then we
shall be able to travel soon, perhaps to-morrow or the next day. It is
of an extreme importance. This place is insufferable to me. We have
engagements in Washington--a gay season."

Carmichael looked at him steadily and spoke with deliberation.

"Baron, you must understand me clearly. This is a serious case. If I
had not come in time your wife might be dead now. She cannot possibly
be moved for a week, perhaps it may take a month fully to restore her
strength. After that she must have a winter of absolute quiet and
repose."

The Frenchman's face hardened; his brows drew together in a black
line, and he lifted his hand quickly with a gesture of irritation.
Then he bowed.

"As you will, doctor! And for the present moment, what is it that I
may have the honour to do for your patient?"

"Just now," said the doctor, "she needs a stimulant--a glass of sherry
or of brandy, if you have it--and a hot-water bag--you have none?
Well, then, a couple of bottles filled with hot water and wra