They had been waiting now for a long time, patiently at first, but as the hours passed, and the lights began to come out along the Drive and in the windows of the apartment opposite, John and Barnhelm began to show the anxiety they had at first attempted to conceal. The chess game had ended long ago, and they had sat together in the twilight talking, until Maria had brought in the evening papers and switched on the light. John, remembering the coldness Lola had shown to him earlier in the day, was hurt and offended. "Surely," he thought, "she should have forgiven me before now, but she is staying away purposely to show me that she is still angry." Dr. Barnhelm was anxious because he felt a host's responsibility and knew that Maria and Jane, the cook, were depending upon Lola for final instructions about the rather elaborate dinner he had demanded in honor of his old friend's arrival. Of the three Dr. Crossett alone was calm and unruffled and rather inclined to be amused by the others' obvious impatience. "She was detained, no doubt," he remarked easily, glancing up from his paper. "Are your subways never blocked? Your cars never stalled? La! a thousand things!" "Almost five hours," exclaimed John impatiently. "Even our subway can hardly be accused of that. I think I had better go there, Doctor. I know where Mrs. Mooney lives." "It would take you at least an hour," responded the Doctor, "and if there had been anything unusually wrong with Nellie, Lola would have telephoned." "Who is this Nellie Mooney?" inquired Dr. Crossett. "A poor little girl," explained Dr. Barnhelm, "the daughter of a hard-working Irish woman. The child has suffered for years with a tubercular disease of the bone of her arm; before we moved I used to see her almost every day, but I had not been able to do much for her." "So. She is young?" "About twelve." "These cases are, to me, most interesting. I have had success in their treatment. If this child is dear to you I will see her. I do not mean that I can do more than you have done, but my treatment has often been successful." "It would make Lola very happy, Paul," replied Dr. Barnhelm. "She met the child in the Park over a year ago and brought her to me. Of all her protégées Nellie has always been the one she seemed to care the most about. I have been glad to see that she still thinks of her." "And now," said Dr. Crossett smilingly, "you two are both out of patience because Lola is doing the very thing you wanted her to do." "I want her to be charitable," broke in John. "It was her almost divine pity for this very child that first showed me the sort of girl she was. But she has spent three whole afternoons there this week. Surely that is overdoing it."