We doctors, providing we have not a brass plate in lieu of a practice, see some queer things, and being in the confidence of our patients, know of many strange and incomprehensible families. The one at Richmond Road was a case in point. I had gradually seen how young Mrs. Courtenay had tired of her wifely duties, until, by slow degrees, she had cast off the shackles altogether--until she now thought more of her new frocks, smart suppers at the Carlton, first-nights and "shows" in Mayfair than she did of the poor suffering old man whom she had not so long ago vowed to "love, honour and obey." It was to be regretted, but in my position I had no necessity nor inclination to interfere. Even Ethelwynn made no remark, although this sudden breaking forth of her sister must have pained her considerably. When at length I shook hands with my patient, left him in the hands of the nurse and descended to the drawing room, I found Ethelwynn awaiting me. She rose and came forward, both her slim white hands outstretched in glad welcome. "Short told me you were here," she exclaimed. "What a long time you have been upstairs. Nothing serious, I hope," she added with a touch of anxiety, I thought. "Nothing at all," I assured her, walking with her across to the fire and seating myself in the cosy-corner, while she threw herself upon a low lounge chair and pillowed her dark head upon a big cushion of yellow silk. "Where is Mary?" I asked. "Out. She's dining with the Hennikers to-night, I think." "And leaves you at home to look after the invalid?" I remarked. "Oh, I don't mind in the least," she declared, laughing. "And the old gentleman? What does he say to her constant absence in the evening?" "Well, to tell the truth, Ralph, he seldom knows. He usually believes her to be at home, and I never undeceive him. Why should I?" I grunted, for I was not at all well pleased with her connivance at her sister's deceit. The sound that escaped my lips caused her to glance across at me in quick surprise. "You are displeased, dear," she said. "Tell me why. What have I done?" "I'm not displeased with you," I declared. "Only, as you know, I'm not in favour of deception, and especially so in a wife." She pursed her lips, and I thought her face went a trifle paler. She was silent for a moment, then said: "I don't see why we should discuss that, Ralph. Mary's actions concern neither of us. It is not for us to prevent her amusing herself, neither is it our duty to create unpleasantness between husband and wife."