parents and Bess Carter, who spent two or three afternoons of each week with him. Then his mother declared that her own nerves were getting so unstrung, and Fred was not gaining any, why not have him go to Boston to a specialist?
So a private car was ordered, and the boy was taken to Boston, where he was left in charge of a noted doctor and a professional nurse of undeniable reputation and heart of iron, who presided over her patients with a clock in one hand and a thermometer in the other, with no allowance made for personal variations.
His mother, in the mean time, was free to recuperate her nervous system by a round of calls, shopping, teas, and theatre-going, to which the illness of her only son had been a serious hinderance. People talked a little, as well they might, but Mrs. Allen spoke so regretfully of her own poor health, and wiped her eyes so daintily when any one asked for Fred, that it was the general opinion that she was more to be pitied than her little son.
As the months passed, and the boy did not return, inquiries for him grew fewer, and to these few Mrs. Allen responded with indiffer-
