"I _cannot_ bear this uncertainty!" he murmured to himself. And he went out of the room and took up his hat. Mrs. Halliburton, who at that moment happened to be crossing from another room, saw him open the hall-door. "Are you going to young Finchley, Edgar?" "No. I shall give him holiday for to-night. I shall be in soon, Jane." He went straight to their own family doctor; a Mr. Allen, who lived close by. They were personal friends. To the inquiry as to whether Mr. Allen was at home, the servant was about to usher him into the family sitting-room, but Mr. Halliburton stepped into the dusky surgery. He was in no mood for ladies' company. "I will wait here," he said. "Tell your master I wish to say a word to him." The surgeon came immediately, a lighted candle in his hand. He was a dark man with a thin face. "Why won't you come in?" he asked. "There's only Mrs. Allen and the girls there. Is anything the matter?" "Yes, Allen, something is the matter," was Mr. Halliburton's reply. "I want a friend to-night: one who will deal with me candidly and openly: and I have come to you. Sit down." They both sat down; and Mr. Halliburton gave him the history of the past four and twenty hours: commencing with the fainting-fit, and ending with his racking doubts as to whether Dr. Carrington's opinion was borne out by facts, or whether he might have been deceived. "Allen," he concluded, "you must see what you can make out of my state: and you must report to me without disguise, as you would report to your own soul." The surgeon looked grave. "Carrington is a clever man," he said. "One whom it would be difficult to deceive." "I know his reputation. But these clever men are not infallible. Put his opinion out of your mind: examine me yourself, and tell me what you think." Mr. Allen proceeded to do so. He first of all asked Mr. Halliburton a few general questions as to his present state of health, as he would have done by any other patient, and then he sounded his lungs. "Now then--the truth," said Mr. Halliburton. "The truth is--so far as I can judge--that you are in no present danger whatever." "Neither did Dr. Carrington say I was--in present danger," hastily replied Mr. Halliburton. "Are my lungs sound?" "They are not sound: but neither do I think they are extensively diseased. You may live for many years, with care." "Would any insurance office take me?" "No. I do not think it would." "It is just my death-knell, Allen." "If you look at it in that light I shall be very sorry to have given you my opinion," observed the surgeon. "I repeat that, by taking care of yourself, you may stave off disease and live many years. I would not say this unless I thought it." "And would your opinion be the same as the doctor's--that I must leave London for the country?" "I think you would have a far better chance of getting well in the country than you have here. You have told me over and over again, you know, that you were sure London air was bad for you."