More voices from behind the closed door, very low, very restrained, a mere breath which Helen could catch only by straining her ears. She could not even be sure whether it were the doctor or Father who was talking. Another long silence. Helen’s heart pounded and pounded. She wished she could hide her face in Aunt Mattie’s lap, but she could not move--not till she knew. Had she heard the voices again? Yes. No. There was no sound from the next room. Then, as though the doctor had been standing there all the time, his hand on the knob, the door suddenly opened. * * * * * Now that the time had come the doctor found it hard to get the words out. He could not think of any way to begin. The three waiting women looked at him, imploring him silently to end their suspense. He cleared his throat, sat down, looked in his case for something which he did not find and shut the case with a click. As if this had been a signal, he then said hastily, in an expressionless voice, “Mrs. Knapp, I might as well be frank with you. I do not think it best to go on with the treatment I have been trying for your husband. I am convinced from the result of the tests to-day....” His fingers played nervously with his watch chain. “I am convinced, I say, that ... that it would be very unwise to continue making an attempt to cure this local trouble. The nervous system of the human body, you understand, is so closely interrelated that when you touch one part you never know what.... The thing which we doctors must take into consideration is the total reaction on the patient. That is the weak point with so many specialists. They consider only the immediate seat of the trouble and not the sum-total of the effect on the patient. You often hear them say of an operation that killed the patient that it was a ‘success.’ And in the case of spinal trouble like Mr. Knapp’s, of course the entire nervous system is.... What I have said applies of course very especially when it is a case of....” He saw from the strained, drawn expression on Mrs. Farnham’s face that she did not understand a word he was saying, and brought out with desperate bluntness, “The fact is that it would be a waste of time for me to continue my weekly visits. I now realize that it would be very dangerous for Mr. Knapp ever to try to use his legs. Crutches perhaps, later. But he must never be allowed to make the attempt to go without crutches. It might be....” He drew a long breath and said it. “It might be fatal.” When he finished he looked very grim and disagreeable, and, opening his case once more, began to fumble among the little bottles in it. God! Why did any honest man ever take up the practice of medicine? * * * * * Back of him, through the open door, Lester Knapp could be seen in his wheel chair, his head fallen back on the head-rest, his long face white, a resolute expression of suffering in his eyes.