The young man in question coloured boyishly. "I shouldn't have ventured to call upon you during your office hours, Dr. North; but I understood from Elizabeth that you could be seen at no other time; so I'm here." "Elizabeth--eh? Yes, yes; I see. I--er--didn't recall your face for the moment. Just come into my private office for a minute or two, Mr. Brewster; these--er--other patients will wait a bit, I fancy." The worthy doctor handed his visitor a chair facing the light, which he further increased by impatiently shoving the shades to the top of the windows. Then he seated himself and stared keenly at the young engineer, who on his part bore the scrutiny with a sturdy self-possession which pleased the doctor in spite of himself. "Elizabeth told you of our engagement, I believe, sir?" [Illustration: "'I said to her that I couldn't and wouldn't consider an engagement between you at present'"] "She told me something of the sort--yes," admitted the doctor testily. "I said to her that I couldn't and wouldn't consider an engagement between you at present. Did she tell you that?" "I was told that you wished to make my further acquaintance. I should like, if you have the time, to tell you something about myself. You have the right to know." The doctor nodded frowningly. "If you expect me--at any time in the future, you understand--to give you my only daughter, I certainly am entitled to know--everything." The young man looked the doctor squarely in the eyes during the longish pause that followed. "There isn't much to tell," he said. "My father and mother are dead. I have one sister, older than I, married to one of the best fellows in the world and living West. I made my home with them till I came to the Tech. You can ask any of the professors there about me. They'll tell you that I worked. I graduated a year ago last June. Since then I've been at work at my profession. I'm getting twelve hundred a year now; but----" "Stop right there. Why did you ask my girl to marry you?" "Because I loved her." "Hum! And she--er--fancies that she loves you--eh?" A dark flush swept over Samuel Brewster's ingenuous young face. "She does love me," was all he said. But he said it in a tone which suddenly brought back the older man's vanished youth. There was a short silence; then the doctor arose so abruptly that he nearly upset his chair. "_Well_," he said, "I've got to go to Boston to-morrow on a case, and I'll see those professors of yours, for one thing; I know Collins well. Not that he or anybody else can tell me all about you--not by a long shot; I know boys and young men well enough for that. But you see, sir, I--love my girl too, and I--I'll say _good_-afternoon, sir." He threw the door wide with an impatient hand. "Ah, Mrs. Tewksbury; you're next, I believe. Walk right in."