Major William Heathcote stood, with his feet firmly planted rather wide apart, on the hearthrug of his library at Bessacre High House, in the proverbial attitude which Englishmen assume when they are giving their opinion with what may, without prejudice, be called decision. It is possible that he had taken up this attitude as being the nearest approach possible under the circumstances to the strategic position known as "back to the wall." His face was stern, and now and again he emphasised a remark by drumming with his right hand upon the palm of his left. His voice was not raised, but his words came cuttingly, and it was evident that they were prompted by something very near to cold anger. The other occupant of the room, for there were only two, was Doctor Robert Gale, who was doing a quick quarter-deck march between the door and the window, his face set, his chin pushed forward, tugging persistently at his ragged beard, first with one hand and then with the other. He did not seem to be angry, merely impatient and very obstinate. "I cannot permit it," the Major was saying, "The whole scheme is preposterous; it is grossly unfair--first of all on poor Francis himself----" "Pshaw!" said the doctor. "You talk about shock," continued the other without noticing the interruption, "but the shock will be much more severe when he finds out the truth--and secondly to Miss Harford. You had no right to suggest such a course. She is young, and a visitor in my house. Now do just think reasonably for a moment." The Major's voice took a more persuasive tone. "Granted that Miss Harford's sympathy leads her to agree with your suggestion, where is it going to end? How can you hope that such a course of deception can possibly bring any real happiness to poor Francis? Your medical mind sees nothing but the one point, which is--life at all cost--anything to prolong life--while there is life there is hope. I know all the clauses of your creed." "Aye!" said the doctor, vehemently--he almost shouted the word--"you are right. It is my creed, and I'm here to carry it out. Any step that will prolong life it is my duty to take. And I know--I know--that any attempt to upset Francis Heathcote's belief that it is Philippa Harford come back again will result in his death. It will kill him." He took his watch out of his pocket and noted the time, and as he did so the door opened and Philippa Harford the second walked into the room. Major Heathcote moved to meet her. "You did not expect to see me," he said. "But I had a letter from the doctor here, telling me of Francis's--illness--and I came at once." "How is your boy?" asked Philippa. "I do hope you and Marion are less anxious."