There seemed nothing for them but to wait in patience and hope.
Meanwhile upstairs Doctor Vincent had concluded his examination of his patient and had given his prescription. He stayed on, talking cheerfully with the woman, who was suffering more from loneliness and overwork and nervous depression than from any bodily ailment. At last he rose and bade her good-by, but instead of going immediately downstairs, he said to her husband:—
"Shoop, I want to have a few words in private with you."
The man looked frightened. "She—she ain't dying, doctor?" he whispered. "Come in here." He led Doctor Vincent into a room across the hall.
"No," said the doctor. "She's doing first rate; she'll be all right in a few days. That's not what I wanted to talk to you about. As I came past your windows downstairs, I looked in, and saw that you had been entertaining some guests."
He looked at Shoop sternly, and the keeper
