"And yet you say you have not become blunted?" "I do not think," said Mona, trying hard with a woman's instinct to avoid the least suspicion of dogmatism--"I do not think that one becomes blunted when one ceases to look at the garbage side of a subject. Every subject, I suppose, _has_ its garbage side, if one is on the look-out for it; and in anatomy, unfortunately, that is the side that strikes one first, and consequently the only one outsiders ever see. It is difficult to discuss the question with one who is not a doctor" ("nor a scientist," she added inwardly); "but if you had pursued the study, I think you would see that one must, in time, lose sight of all but the wonder and the beauty of it." There was a long pause. "When you are qualified," he said at last, "you only mean to attend your own sex?" "Oh, of course," said Mona earnestly. He seemed relieved. "That was why my wife made me angry by suggesting, even in play, that you should prescribe for me. You women are--with or without conscious sacrifice--wading through seas of blood to right a terrible evil that has hitherto been an inevitable one. If you deliberately and gratuitously repeat that evil by extending your services to men, the sacrifice has all been for nothing, and less than nothing." He spoke with his old vehemence, and then relapsed into silence. His next remark sounded curiously irrelevant. "How long do you remain here?" "In London? I don't quite know. I am going to visit a cousin in ten days or so." Sir Douglas took advantage of a pause in the conversation between his wife and their visitor. "Bruce," he said, "let me introduce you to my niece, Miss Maclean." "That," he continued to his wife, with a movement of his head in Mona's direction, "is a great medical light." Mona laughed. "I am sure of it," said Lady Munro, with her irresistible smile. "As for me, I would as soon have a woman doctor as a man." Sir Douglas threw back his head and clapped his hands, with a harsh laugh. "Well," he said, "when you come to say that--the skies will fall." "Douglas, what _do_ you mean?" She looked annoyed. At the moment she really believed that she had been an advocate of women doctors all her life. Sir Douglas seated himself on a low chair beside her, and began to play with her embroidery silks. When Mona rose to go, a little later, Lady Munro took her hand affectionately. "Mona," she said, "I told you we were starting on Monday morning for a short tour in Norway. My husband and I should be so pleased if you would go with us." Mona's cheek flushed. "How _very_ kind!" she said. "I am so sorry it is impossible." "Why?" said Sir Douglas quickly. "You don't need to go to your cousin till the end of the month." Mona's colour deepened. "There is no use in beating about the bush," she said. "The fact is, I am engaged in the interesting occupation of retrenching just now. You know"--as Sir Douglas looked daggers--"I have not the smallest claim on you."