"The patient is asleep," he announced in a whisper. Katharine stepped inside and stood looking down upon the pale, almost ghastly face of the man stretched at full length upon the bed. "Why, I remember him perfectly," she exclaimed. "He was in Number Three Ward for some time. Surely he was a clerk at one of the drygoods stores down-town?" The doctor nodded. "Very likely." "I remember the case," Katharine continued,--"appendicitis, followed by pneumonia, and complicated by angina pectoris." "You have it precisely." Katharine's eyes were full of perplexity. "But the man is in very poor circumstances," she remarked. "How on earth can he afford a trip like this? He was on the free list at the hospital." The doctor frowned. "That is not my business," he said. "My fees are paid, and the steamer tickets appear to be in order. He probably has wealthy friends." Katharine looked down once more at the sleeping man. His face was insignificant, his expression peevish, his features without the animation of any high purpose. "I really cannot understand," she murmured, "how he became a friend--a friend--" "A friend of whom?" the doctor enquired. Katharine reflected and shook her head. "Perhaps I was indiscreet," she confessed. "I dare say you know as much about him as I do. At what time would you like me to come and help you change the bandages?" "I shall change them alone," the doctor replied. "I prefer to." Katharine glanced up in surprise. "Surely you are not in earnest?" she asked. "What else am I here for? I suppose you realise that I am fully qualified?" The doctor unbent a little. "I am perfectly well aware of that. Miss Beverley," he said, "and it may be that there are times when I shall be glad of your help, and in any case," he went on, "I shall have to ask you to take a share in the night watching. But the surgical part of the case has been a great responsibility, and I couldn't afford to have the slightest thing in the world happen to one of my bandages." Katharine nodded. "You are thinking of Nurse Lynn," she observed. "But really I am very careful." "I am sure of it," the doctor acknowledged, "but so long as I am here, with nothing else to do and a very heavy fee if by any chance I bring my man through, I may just as well see to these things myself. At any moment I might need your help, and I am very happy, Miss Beverley, to think that I shall have some one like you to fall back upon. My great hope," he went on, "is that we may get him across without a touch of the angina." "Will he ever get well?" she asked. The doctor shook his head doubtfully. "One can never tell," he said. "It is just one of these cases which are very close to the borderland. With luck he may pull through, may even become a fairly strong man again, but he doesn't look as though he had much of a physique. Sometime or other the day will come when life or death for him will depend entirely upon his will."