The house detective stalked out, leaving the door of the suite open. Ryder did not know whether to follow her or remain. Mrs. Judson was evidently determined not to give up the role of patient too easily. She caught the hand that had so cruelly wrung her nose and begged the doctor not to leave her. He said he would not--in that sympathetically disgusted tone that medical men use on such occasions. He felt himself in a foolish position, and another man was looking on. "Your husband, Madam?" he asked Ruth shortly, nodding toward Ryder. "Yes," she said with a blush. "Better ask him to retire while we get Mrs. Judson to bed. She has had these attacks before. She will not be over this one in a hurry." Then he added in a lower tone: "What's the matter now? Is her lapdog sick?" "Her maid has left her," Ruth said, having hard work, as Ryder saw, to keep from laughing. But he felt no desire to laugh himself. Undress that woman and put her to bed _here_? John Ryder was getting desperate. This nightmare of untoward incidents was altogether too much for his self-control. "That's a serious matter," grunted the doctor. "Neither of us will get much rest tonight if Mrs. Judson follows her usual course. Perhaps you can get somebody to help you, Madam----" "I am used to nursing sick people," Ruth told him demurely. "I can follow your instructions exactly, Doctor. In fact, I have had considerable experience in nursing. In the present state of the hotel's affairs it might be difficult to get a maid." "I suppose that is so," the medical man admitted. "Well, the first thing to do is to get her into bed." Ryder, who felt that he never, on short acquaintance, had so disliked a man as he did this physician, had edged off to the further end of the room. Ruth came to him, still with laughter expressed in her quivering face and voice. "You are only a 'mere man'--you cannot stay here, hubby," she whispered, putting her lips up to his. "You will have to go out until we get Mrs. Judson into my bed. Then--if she gets quiet--you may come back. I will sit up to tend to her and you can nap on the couch. But don't go too far away." "Why, hang it, Ruth!" he complained, not at all the business man now, "can't she be lugged back to her own room?" "But that would be cruel. She was frightened there, because she was alone and the lights went out. _I_ should have to go with her, you know. Come now! be knightly, Mr. Romeo," she added, her voice trailing off into a laugh as she pushed him gently out of the room. John Ryder walked away about ten steps. Then he stopped, and smote one clenched fist into his other open palm. "Well, I am hanged!" he ejaculated, and with fervor, "Some honeymoon! What? "For a man to be turned out of his rooms at this hour of the night, and for a confounded, silly, hysterical old woman! Bah!"