The girls looked on in silent horror. MacCammon smiled appreciatively. The patient was lying helpless under the doctor's skilful hands, obeying his orders with child-like confidence, and the doctor was ministering to the physical needs of the old man with tender professional touches. But all the while the patient glared venomously up into the doctor's face and the doctor glowered back. "Turn over," said the doctor sharply. "Ain't he polite?" sneered the old man. "Ain't he a perfect gentleman?" But he did not hesitate to obey the doctor's word. "Now turn back. I did not want anything. Just wanted to see if it would hurt you to move. There's nothing the matter with you anyhow but an overdose of devil germs. You've bulldozed and browbeaten so many people for so many years that you've got a calloused heart and a calloused soul. It gives you indigestion. That's all that ails you--spiritual indigestion." Doris came forward with gentle sympathy and laid a slender hand on the man's shoulder. "He is a bad doctor. This is no time to throw up your weaknesses, is it?" "Well," admitted the old man, "he is a fiend, but he is a good doctor. All the rest gave me up to die--and he came, and operated--it was a terrible operation on the brain--and I am nearly well. He is a good doctor--but he is a fiend. But then, if it comes to that, I haven't been an angel myself." Doris could not help laughing. "An angel. I am surprised you know the word," scoffed the doctor. "You wouldn't recognize an angel if you ran into one. Your eyes are blind to everything but the dollar-mark. If you ever get to Heaven, your crown will be made up of dollar bills instead of diamonds." "If you ever get to Heaven you won't have any crown at all. Just a hypodermic needle to go around sticking into poor angels that trust you, and you'll have crutches to play on 'stead of a harp." "Well, come on, girls. You have had enough. Don't let him soak into your dispositions." The girls put out soft and timid hands to say good-by, and the old man took them bashfully, blushing beneath their friendly eyes. "If you are still alive, I shall see you Wednesday, but I have hopes," said the doctor. "It would be a pleasure to die just to get away from you," shouted the old man after him. "Doctor, that was terrible," said Doris. "How could you do it? The poor sick old man!" The doctor only laughed. "You may as well make up your mind to sitting with me," he said to Rosalie, helping her into the front seat. "You do not seem absolutely essential to their happiness, do you?" "Not absolutely, no. But I tell you right now if you begin on me as you talked to the old man, I shall fall right out and get run over. Like him, I think death is preferable." "Sometimes I feel that I missed my calling," said the doctor in a genial tone. "I believe in my heart I should have been a minister." "Oh, mercy!" gasped Rosalie.