He knew that she wanted petting, and she got it, joyously. They were curiously happy when he heard Dr. Patten’s car in front. He looked out of the window. He was frightened. With Patten was an impatient man with turbulent black hair and a hussar mustache--Dr. A. I. Dilling, the surgeon. Babbitt sputtered with anxiety, tried to conceal it, and hurried down to the door. Dr. Patten was profusely casual: “Don’t want to worry you, old man, but I thought it might be a good stunt to have Dr. Dilling examine her.” He gestured toward Dilling as toward a master. Billing nodded in his curtest manner and strode up-stairs. Babbitt tramped the living-room in agony. Except for his wife’s confinements there had never been a major operation in the family, and to him surgery was at once a miracle and an abomination of fear. But when Dilling and Patten came down again he knew that everything was all right, and he wanted to laugh, for the two doctors were exactly like the bearded physicians in a musical comedy, both of them rubbing their hands and looking foolishly sagacious. Dr. Dilling spoke: “I’m sorry, old man, but it’s acute appendicitis. We ought to operate. Of course you must decide, but there’s no question as to what has to be done.” Babbitt did not get all the force of it. He mumbled, “Well, I suppose we could get her ready in a couple o’ days. Probably Ted ought to come down from the university, just in case anything happened.” Dr. Dilling growled, “Nope. If you don’t want peritonitis to set in, we’ll have to operate right away. I must advise it strongly. If you say go ahead, I’ll ’phone for the St. Mary’s ambulance at once, and we’ll have her on the table in three-quarters of an hour.” “I--I-- Of course, I suppose you know what-- But great God, man, I can’t get her clothes ready and everything in two seconds, you know! And in her state, so wrought-up and weak--” “Just throw her hair-brush and comb and tooth-brush in a bag; that’s all she’ll need for a day or two,” said Dr. Dilling, and went to the telephone. Babbitt galloped desperately up-stairs. He sent the frightened Tinka out of the room. He said gaily to his wife, “Well, old thing, the doc thinks maybe we better have a little operation and get it over. Just take a few minutes--not half as serious as a confinement--and you’ll be all right in a jiffy.” She gripped his hand till the fingers ached. She said patiently, like a cowed child, “I’m afraid--to go into the dark, all alone!” Maturity was wiped from her eyes; they were pleading and terrified. “Will you stay with me? Darling, you don’t have to go to the office now, do you? Could you just go down to the hospital with me? Could you come see me this evening--if everything’s all right? You won’t have to go out this evening, will you?”