"My land! I've been here three or four times. Looks like I'd ketch him _some_ time." "You are at the office then? If you will sit down and wait just a little while, he will be in." "I come six miles to see him. I supposed of course he'd be in _some_ time," grumbled the voice (of course a woman's). "But when he is called to visit a patient he must go, you know," explained Mary. "Y-e-s," admitted the voice reluctantly. "Well, I'll wait here a little while longer." Ten minutes later Mary rang the office. Her husband replied. "How long have you been back, John?" "O, five or ten minutes." "Did you find a woman waiting for you?" "No." "Well, I assured her you'd be there in a few minutes and she said she'd wait." "Do you know who she was?" "No. Some one from the country. She said she came six miles to see you and she supposed you'd be in your office _some_ time, and that sometime was mightily emphatic." "O, yes, I know now. She'll be in again," laughed the doctor and Mary felt relieved, for in the querulous tones of the disappointed woman she had read disapproval of the doctor and of herself too, as the partner not only of his joys and sorrows, but of his laggard gait as well. The people who wait for a doctor are not apt to consider that a good many more may be waiting for him also at that particular moment of time. CHAPTER VI. One of the most discouraging things I have encountered is a great blank silence. The doctor asks his wife to keep a close watch on the telephone for a little while, and leaves the office. Pretty soon it rings and she goes to answer it. "Hello?" Silence. "What is it?" More silence. She knows that "unseen hands or spirits" did not ring that bell. She knows perfectly well that there is a listening ear at the other end of the line. But you cannot converse with silence any more than you can speak to a man you meet on the street if he purposely looks the other way. Mary knew that the listening ear belonged to someone who recognized that it was the wife who answered instead of the doctor, and therefore kept silent. She smiled and hung up the receiver--sorry not to be able to help her husband and to give the needed information to the patient. But when this had happened several times she thought of a more satisfactory way of dealing with the situation. She would take down the receiver and ask, "What is it?" She would wait a perceptible instant and then say distinctly and pleasantly, "Doctor Blank will be out of the office for about twenty minutes. He asked me to tell you." That never failed to bring an answer, a hasty, shame-voiced, "Oh, I--well--thank you, Mrs. Blank, I'll call again, then." * * * * * The doctor's absence from town has its telephonic puzzles. One day during Dr. Blank's absence his wife was called to the 'phone. "Mrs. Blank, a telegram has just come for the doctor. What must I do with it?" It was the man at the office who put the question.