"Oh, you don’t know my family; they would not allow that sort of thing. Doctor, are you married?" "I have been a widower for some years." "That explains—you’ve forgotten how it is. You see, my family are a very touchy lot—but I know just how to handle them. We get along swimmingly." "As these domestic conditions seem inevitable, further discussions seem useless. _Talk it over with the ladies_. Perhaps with the assistance of your wife, your daughter and your mother-in-law you may arrive at some decision which will be agreeable to all concerned." "Certainly! Certainly! I’ll do as you say—we’ll talk it over and we’ll hit on something between the lot of us. See you again, Doctor. Good-by." "He’s pretty far gone already, I fear," thought the Noted Authority after Stillwater had departed. "Absolutely afraid to act on his own responsibility." "What do you think?" cried Stillwater, bursting in on his family about dinner hour. "He won’t allow you to go with me on that sailing trip. He says I must go alone." "Well, pa, you go right back and tell him that we wouldn’t think of allowing you to do anything of the kind." "His office hours are over now, Indiana," said Stillwater, smiling placidly. "Will to-morrow morning do?" "Oh, father, it would just break my heart to see you going off alone and sick, too." "Not to be thought of for a minute," said Mrs. Bunker. "I told him you wouldn’t hear of it." Stillwater leaned back in his chair, watching with evident enjoyment the effect of his words. "He said that to confine a perfectly normal person on a sailing vessel for three months with his wife, his daughter, and his mother-in-law, would make him a nervous wreck for life." "Did he say that, pa?" "Practically, Indiana." "Brute," said Mrs. Bunker. "If he once had the privilege of making my acquaintance he might change his views on the matter." "He might fall all over himself to become one of the sailing party himself then," remarked Stillwater chuckling. "Well, he said I should talk it over with the ladies." "It’s a wonder he gave us that much consideration," said Indiana loftily. "I reckon he thought he was humoring me. I guess he thinks I’m a gone case." Stillwater slapped his knee. "Well, I’ve been doing some tall thinking on my own account and it’s come to this." He rose and looked at his wife. "In the old days when I was coaxing the ground, I never had these feelings, mother." "Oh, no!" "I’m going back to nature. I’m going to buy a farm. I know just where to lay my hands on one in Indiana. Spring is coming. I’m going to live on it and work on it, till I’m a new man again." "I second that motion," said Mrs. Bunker, bringing her hand down on the table. "And I," cried Indiana. "We’ll all go farming." "Well, mother, you’re not saying a word." She smiled up at him. Her eyes were full of tears. "It—it will be like the old days," she said.