He did not recognize her. The memory of his supper companions of the Hotel Chouteau cafe was deeply buried under the dream debris, and the present moment was full of mild bewilderment. Yet the friendliness in her eyes seemed to shine out of some past which ought to be remembered. Before he could frame any of the queries which came thronging to the door of the returned consciousness, she smiled and shook her head and forbade him. "No, you mustn't talk," she said, with gentle authority. "It's the doctor's orders. By and by, when you are stronger, you may ask all the questions you please; but not now." He wagged his head on the pillow. "Can't I even ask where I am?" he begged. "Since you have asked, I'll tell you that much. You are in Wahaska, Minnesota, in the house of your friends; and you have nothing to do but to get well as fast and as comfortably as you can." Her voice was even more remindful than her face of that elusive past which ought to be remembered, and he closed his eyes to try to recall it. When he opened them again, she was gone and her place was taken by one of the figures of the dream; a man with a thick mop of fair hair and a face of blank good-nature, and whose store of English seemed to be comprised in a single sentence: "_Ja, ja_; Hae bane poorty vell, t'ank yo'." Later in the day the doctor came; and when the professional requirements were satisfied, Griswold learned the bare facts of his succoring. It was characteristic of the Griswold of other days that the immense obligation under which the Griersons had placed him made him gasp and perspire afresh. "Who ever heard of such a thing, doctor?" he protested weakly. And then: "How am I ever going to repay them?" Dr. Farnham was crisply explicit. "You may leave Mr. Grierson out of your problem. Miss Margery is an only child, and if she sees fit to turn Mereside into a temporary hospital, he is abundantly able to indulge her." "Then I am indebted to the daughter, alone?" "Entirely, I should say." Griswold looked long and earnestly at the face of his professional adviser. It was a good face, clearly lined, benevolent; and, above all, trustworthy. "Tell me one thing more, doctor, if you can. What was the motive? Was it just heavenly good-heartedness?--or----" The doctor's smile was the least possible shade wintry. "When you have lived a few years longer in this world of ours, you will not probe too deeply into motives; you will take the deed as the sufficient exponent of the prompting behind it. If I say so much, you will understand that I am not impugning Miss Grierson's motives. There are times when she is the good angel of everybody in sight." "And this is one of the times?" persisted the analyst. "We shall say that this is one of the times: say it and stick to it, Mr.----" The pause after the courtesy title was significant, and Griswold filled it promptly. "Griswold--Kenneth Griswold. Do you mean to say that you haven't known my name, doctor?"