Early in my practice, when I had but few acquaintances in U----, I became intimate with a certain family, through having the wife and children as patients. My old school-mate had moved away shortly after I went there, and as I had no place to go during Dr. Wyeth’s office hours, I got in the way of spending a good deal of time in the Richards’s home. Mrs. Richards, a woman of tall, handsome figure, was a mild, placid woman, an excellent housekeeper, kind and motherly. She made me welcome in her home; her boys, of whom I was fond, were fine little fellows. The freedom with which I came and went in their home was delightful. The father of the family was a forceful man of keen intellect, impulsive, ardent, magnetic, and of ungovernable temper when aroused. He was alive to all that pertained to the development and guidance of his boys, and got in the way of coming to my office of an evening to borrow books and chat awhile about them; he said it did him good to discuss these matters with me, and he was glad to have my influence on his boys. He was frank in his liking for me, and his occasional calls were welcome in my lonely evenings. Sometimes he would say: “I fear I come here too much--I don’t want to do that; Jane likes to have me come--but if you mind, you must tell me.” It was perhaps after a half dozen calls that he began telling me about his early life, of his proud and passionate mother, and of her second marriage to a man so vastly inferior in race and breeding that his childhood and youth were made utterly miserable. As he recounted some of the experiences of his boyhood, and the shame and rage he had often been made to feel because of taunts concerning his step-father, I felt a great pity for him, and was able to understand, in a measure, his curious outbursts of temper of which he told me. Later he began speaking more freely about his wife, of her goodness, but also of her limitations; her incapacity for companionship, her unresponsiveness. Because of all this, he said, he especially appreciated my kindness to him, and thanked God he had found such a friend; he thought we could be of help to each other, and was sure I understood him as no one else ever had. That night when he left he held my hand longer than his wont, and I felt an uneasiness, combined with an unwonted pleasure.