Both men were silent. Slowly the younger man took up the reins. "I just stopped to tell you, Doctor." "Ah huh. Well, you go home and rest. Get a good night whatever you do. You'll have to go out again, I suppose. Call me if anything turns up; I'm good for a little yet. You've got to get some rest, Harry, do you hear?" he spoke roughly. "Thank you, Doctor. I don't think I will need to disturb you, though; everybody else is doing nicely. I can't think of anything that is likely to call me out." "Well, go to bed anyway." "I will, good night, Doctor." "Good night, Harry." The mare trotted on down the dark street, past the twinkling lights. The Doctor stood by the curb until he heard the buggy wheels rattle over the railroad tracks, then turned to walk stiffly back to his seat on the porch. Soon the tired horse was in the hands of old Uncle George, while Mam Liz ministered to the weary doctor. The old black woman lingered in the dining room after serving his dinner, hovering about the table, calling his attention to various dishes, watching his face the while with an expression of anxiety upon her own wrinkled countenance. At last Harry looked up at her with a smile. "Well Mam Liz, what is it? Haven't I been good today?" "No sah. Mars Harry yo ain't. Yo been plumb bad, an' I feel jest like I uster when yo was er little trick an' I tuk yo 'cross my knee an' walloped yo good." "Why, Mammy, what have I done now? Wasn't that new dress what you wanted? You can change it, you know, for anything you like." "Law, chile, 'tain't _me_. Yo ole Mammy mighty proud o' them dress goods--they's too fine fo ole nigger like me. 'Tain't nothin' yo done to other folks, Mars Harry. Hit's what yo all's doin' to yoself." A tear stole down the dusky cheek. "Think I can't see how yo--yo plumb tuckered out? Yo ain't slep in yo bed fo three nights 'ceptin' jest fo a hour one mo'nin' when other folks was er gettin' up, an' only the Good Lawd knows when yo eats." The doctor laughed. "There, there Mammy, you can see me eating now all right can't you?" But the old woman shook her head mournfully. Harry continued, "One of your dinners, you know, is worth at least six of other folks' cooking. Fact--" he added grimly, "I believe I might safely say a dozen." Then he gave her a laughing description of his attempt to cook breakfast for himself and the ten children at the Masons that morning. The old woman was proudly indignant, "Dem po'r triflin' white trash! To think o' yo' doin' that to sech as them! Ain't no sense 'tall in sech doin's, no how, Mars Harry. What right dey got to ax yo', any how? Dey shore ain't got no claim on yo'--an' yo' ain't got no call to jump every time sech as them crooks they fingers." Dr. Harry shook his head solemnly. "Now Mam Liz, I'm afraid you're an aristocrat."