"It is shameful that a friendless woman should be so abused!" "You are not altogether friendless, Mrs. Moxton. If you will accept me as your champion, I shall be proud to occupy the position." The widow looked steadfastly at Ellis, and something--perceptible to a woman only--which she saw in his eyes caused her to lower her own. She replied indirectly, with true feminine evasion,-- "I shall always be glad to have you for a friend, doctor. You have been--you are--very good to me." But after this speech Mrs. Moxton became reserved and hesitating, finally silent; so that Ellis, aware that his eyes had revealed too much, took his leave in a few minutes. By this time he was conscious that he had fallen in love with the pretty widow, and marvelled that he should lose his heart after three weeks' acquaintance. In the opinion of some, love at first sight is a fallacy, and at one time Ellis had been of these wiseacres. Now his personal experience proved the truth of the saying. Mrs. Moxton was not a supremely beautiful woman, but she had a young and comely face, and an extraordinarily fascinating manner. It was to this last that Ellis succumbed, and he made scarcely any effort to resist its influence. Yet Mrs. Moxton was a woman with a humble--if not a doubtful--past, and there was a slur on her reputation as the widow of a murdered man. Ellis could not help admitting to himself that she was no wife for a struggling doctor, yet, in spite of such admission, he was bent upon marrying her, should the opportunity offer itself. In the meantime he kept his own counsel and told no one--not even Cass--of this new element in his life. That same evening Ellis and his friend sat down after supper to discuss again their domestic affairs and the state of the exchequer. The outlook was now considerably improved, for Cass had returned with a good piece of news, which he lost no time in imparting to the doctor. "The gods of things-as-they-ought-to-be have awakened to the injustice of my terrestrial treatment, Bob," he announced gleefully. "I have been made theatrical critic for the _Early Bird_, and a story of mine has been accepted by the _Piccadilly Magazine_." "Good news, old boy; I congratulate you. What is the reason for this sudden discovery of your merits?" "Moxton's murder, I think. My editor was pleased with the blood-and-thunder report I gave of it." "Hence he sets you to criticise the drama," said Ellis, drily. "I suppose so. Perhaps he thinks that if I can describe the murder of a human being I can deal with the slaughter of drama and comedy by incompetent actors." "The profession would be flattered by your preconceived ideas of their capabilities, Harry." "Nonsense! I am thinking of extreme cases only. But now that I have a better salary I can help you, Bob. I shall be like the Auvergnat carrier in Balzac's story, and aid a great physician to reach his rightful position for the benefit of humanity."