Dorinda glanced at Mother and then at me. She did not so much as whisper, but her lips formed a name. I rose from my chair. Mother looked at me and then at Dorinda. “Who is it, Roscoe?” she asked. “Just a caller on a business matter,” I answered, hurriedly. “I'll be out at once, Dorinda.” “But who is it, Roscoe?” “It's Mr. Colton, Mother. He has probably come to--” “Dorinda,” Mother interrupted me, “ask Mr. Colton to come in here.” “But, Mother--” “Ask him to come in here, Dorinda. I should like to meet him.” Dorinda hesitated, but when Mother spoke in that tone none of us hesitated long. She disappeared. A moment later the door opened wide and Colton entered. The sudden transition from sunlight to semidarkness bewildered him for a moment, doubtless, for he stood there without speaking. Dorinda, who had ushered him in, went out and closed the door. I stepped forward. “Good morning, Mr. Colton,” I said, as calmly as I could. “You have never met my mother, I think. Mother, this is Mr. Colton, our neighbor.” Colton turned toward the bed and murmured a few words. For once, I think, he was startled out of his customary cool self-possession. And when Mother spoke it seemed to me that she, too, was disturbed. “Roscoe,” she said, quickly, “will you draw that window-shade a little more? The light is rather strong. Thank you. Mr. Colton, I am very glad to meet you. I have heard of you often, of course, and I have met your daughter. She has been very kind to me, in many ways. Won't you sit down?” I drew forward a chair. Our visitor accepted it. “Thank you, Mrs. Paine,” he said. “I will sit. To be honest, I'm very glad of the opportunity. I have been under the doctor's care for the past few weeks and last night's performance is not the best sort of treatment for a tender digestion. The doctor told me what I needed was rest and sleep and freedom from care. I told him I probably shouldn't get the last item till I was dead. As for the rest--and sleep--Humph!” with a short laugh, “I wonder what he would have said if he had seen me last night.” Mother's face was turned away from him on the pillow. “I am sorry to hear that you have been ill, Mr. Colton,” she said. “Ill! I'm not ill. I have never been sick in my life and I don't propose to begin now. If the crowd in New York would let me alone I should be all right enough. There is a deal on there that is likely to come to a head pretty soon and my people at the office are nervous. They keep 'phoning and telegraphing and upsetting things generally. I'll have to run over there myself in a day or two and straighten it out. But there! I didn't come here to worry you with my troubles. I feel as if I knew you, Mrs. Paine.” “Knew me? Knew ME, Mr. Colton?”