“But I don't know,” he went on, “that a dreamer is such a desperate character, if you can only keep him from trying to realise his dreams; and if Mr. Peck consents to stay in Hatboro', perhaps we can manage it.” He drew his chair a little toward the lounge where she reclined, and asked, with the kindliness that was both personal and professional, “What seems to be the matter?” She started up. “There is nothing--nothing that medicine can help. Why do you call him my favourite?” she demanded violently. “But you have wasted your time. If he had made up his mind to what you say, he would never give it up--never in the world!” she added hysterically. “If you've interfered between any one and his duty in this world, where it seems as if hardly any one had any duty, you've done a very unwarrantable thing.” She was aware from his stare that her words were incoherent, if not from the words themselves, but she hurried on: “I am going with him. He was here last night, and I told him I would. I will go with the Savors, and we will keep the child together; and if they will take me, I shall go to work in the mills; and I shall not care what people think, if it's right--” She stopped and weakly dropped back on the lounge, and hid her face in the pillow. “I really don't understand.” The doctor began, with a physician's carefulness, to unwind the coil she had flung down to him. “Are the Savors going, and the child?” “He will give her the child for the one they lost--you know how! And they will take it with them.” “But you--what have you--” “I must have the child too! I can't give it up, and I shall go with them. There's no other way. You don't know. I've given him my word, and there is no hope!” “He asked you,” said the doctor, to make sure he had heard aright--“he asked you--advised you--to go to work in a cotton-mill?” “No;” she lifted her face to confront him. “He told me _not_ to go; but I said I would.” They sat staring at each other in a silence which neither of them broke, and which promised to last indefinitely. They were still in their daze when Putney's voice came through the open hall door. “Hello! hello! hello! Hello, Central! _Can't_ I make you hear, any one?” His steps advanced into the hall, and he put his head in at the library doorway. “Thought you'd be here,” he said, nodding at the doctor. “Well, doctor, Brother Peck's beaten us again. He's going.” “Going?” the doctor echoed.