"Extraordinary sort of place you have here! I don't know that I have ever seen anything just like it. And what is your System?" "What is my System?" repeated the Master wonderingly. "Yes! Your method of building these fellows up--electricity, diet, massage, baths--what is your line?" An urbane smile removed the offence of the banter. "I have no System!" the Master replied thoughtfully. "I live my life here with my work, and those you see come and live with me as my friends." "Ah, but you have ideas ... extraordinary success ... so many cases," the great man muttered, confused by the Master's steady gaze. "You will learn more about us after you have been here a little time. You will see, and the others will help you to understand. To-morrow we work at the mill, and the next day we shall be in the gardens--but you may be too tired to join us. And we bathe here, morning and noon. Harvey will tell you all our customs." The celebrated surgeon of St. Jerome's wrote that night to an old friend: "And the learned doctor's prescription seems to be to dig in the garden and bathe in a great pool! A daffy sort of place--but I am going bass fishing to-morrow at five with a young man, who is just the right age for a son! So to bed, but I suspect that I shall see you soon--novelties wear out quickly at my years." Just here there entered that lovely night wind, rising far away beyond the low lakes to the south--it soughed through the room, swaying the draperies, sighing, sighing, and it blew out the candle. The sick man looked down on the court below, white in the moonlight, and his eyes roved farther to the dark orchard, and the great barns and the huddled cattle. "Quite a bit of country here!" the surgeon murmured. As he stood there looking into the misty light which covered the Intervale, up to the great hills above which floated luminous cloud banks, the chorus of an old song rose from below where the pipes gleamed in the dark about the pool. He leaned out into the air, filled with all the wild scent of green fields, and added under a sort of compulsion--"And a good place, enough!" He went to bed to a deep sleep, and over his tired, worldly face the night wind passed gently, stripping leaf by leaf from his weary mind that heavy coating of care which he had wrapped about him in the course of many years. * * * * *