The _locum tenens_ to our old family doctor fought back the menace, first of rheumatic fever and then of pneumonia. For days, it was touch and go which of the dread diseases she might contract, but she had a strong constitution--thank God!--and both Nanny and Gran'pa sank their grievances in a common service to their idol. Nothing was too much trouble for them. Nanny was just her own sweet, motherly self! But Gran'pa rose to heights of such unselfish devotion as I had never imagined. He spent practically the whole day and half of each night in her bedroom--watching her when she was asleep, and reading to her and playing games with her when she was awake. "My God, George!" he said, "I don't think I shall ever be able to forgive myself." His spirit of penitence and humility bordered on the pathetic. By some miracle, he had escaped Heaven knew what complications himself and he seemed determined to devote his remaining strength to succoring Molly in her dire hour of need. Gone was all his obstinacy, his freakishness. In that week of torment he had grown to years of discretion and achieved a mental stability far beyond my wildest hopes. Behind him, he had some seventy to eighty years' experience of human nature, and he brought it all to bear on Molly's particular temperament, with a wisdom which astonished even the doctor in attendance. "The most wonderful old man I've ever seen!" he observed. I did not mention the gland business, as I thought Gran'pa might be offended. "He's certainly very tough!" I answered. "But his sympathy and understanding! Remarkable! . . . Old people are usually so narrow-minded and crotchety . . . so selfish." "Ah! He's the exception!" I said with enthusiasm. "What's his age?" "Ninety-six next week." "You don't say so! Most _astounding_!" "You've only seen him at his quietest, doctor." I hesitated a moment; and then family pride carried me away a little. "Normally," I said, "he is all energy and go. He could eat, drink and smoke me under the table any day; and as a companion for Molly he's--unapproachable. Motor-scooting, tree-climbing, running and jumping. . . . That big walnut tree down the garden is one of his favorite spots. He and Molly have a sort of seat, made of twisted boughs. He's often up there reading. A wonderful climber!" "Impossible at his age!" "You must drop in some day and see for yourself." "Can you give any reason for it?" he asked. Naturally, I could have given one--but I didn't. . . . "I suppose," I said, "that it is just the result of good, clean living and a strong constitution. He's never had a day's illness in his life--except for a slight operation he once underwent. He's also an American, born and bred. I think that may account for a lot. . . ."