"Doesn't resemble her in the least," the doctor thought, getting on

his feet, and putting out a friendly, hand. "I am just in from Old

Chester," he said, "and I thought I'd come and say how-do-you-do to

your father, and tell you the latest news of Mrs. Richie--"

The front door banged, and Lloyd Pryor pushed aside the curtain.--

William had wondered what Martha would say to a curtain instead of a

door! His blank panic as he heard the doctor's last word, turned his

face white. ("Bad heart?" William asked himself.) "Dr. King! Alice, you needn't wait."

Alice, nodding pleasantly, left them, and her father, setting his

teeth, looked out through his curling eyelashes with deadly

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intentness.

"Thought I'd come in and say how-do-you-do?" William King said, hungry

and friendly, but a little bewildered.

"Oh," said Mr. Pryor.

William put out his hand; there was a second's hesitation, then Lloyd

Pryor took it--and dropped it quickly.

"All well?" the doctor asked awkwardly.

"Yes; yes. All well. Very well, thank you. Yes."

"I was just passing. I thought perhaps your sister would be pleased if

I inquired; she didn't know I was coming, but--"

"You are very kind, I'm sure," the other broke in, his face relaxing.

"I am sorry that just at this moment I can't ask you to stay, but--"

"Certainly not," William King said shortly; "I was just passing. If

you have any message for Mrs. Richie--"

"Oh! Ah;--yes. Remember me to her. All well in Old Chester? Very kind

in you to look me up. I am sorry I--that it happens that--good-by--"

Dr. King nodded and took himself off; and Lloyd Pryor, closing the

door upon him, wiped the moisture from his forehead. "Alice, where are

you?"

"In the dining-room, daddy dear," she said. "Who is Dr. King?"

He gave her a furtive look and then put his arm over her shoulder.

"Nobody you know, Kitty."

"He said something about 'Mrs. Richie';--who is Mrs. Richie?"

"Some friend of his, probably. Got anything good for dinner,

sweetheart?"

As for William King, he walked briskly down the street, his face very

red. "Confound him!" he said. He was conscious of a desire to kick

something. That evening, after a bleak supper at a marble-topped

restaurant table, he tried to divert himself by going to see a play;

he saw so many other things that he came out in the middle of it. "I

guess I can get all the anatomy I want in my trade," he told himself;

and sat down in the station to await the midnight train.




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