"Most of the day." "Can you eat anything?" "I ate an egg, some toast and some fruit for dinner." "That's fine. I'll bring you a box of candy then pretty soon--I'm coming down in a little bit." "That will be lovely." "Which, the candy or the coming down?" "The candy, goose, of course." A laugh at both ends of the wire. Then Jack's voice. "Well, here comes the doctor. I've got to have my neck amputated now. Goodbye." "Good-bye." "All's fair in love and war," said Mary, "and it's plain to see what this is." Then she hung up the receiver without a qualm. * * * * * There were other times when the doctor's wife was glad she had gone to the 'phone, as in this instance. She had taken down the receiver when a man's voice said, "The doctor just stepped out for a few minutes. If you will tell me your name, madam, I'll have him call you when he comes in." Disinterested courtesy spoke in his voice, but Mary was not in the least surprised to hear the curt reply, "It won't be necessary. I'll call _him_ when he comes." "I dare say that gentleman, whoever he may be, is wondering what he has done," thought Mary. But it was not altogether unpleasant to her to hear somebody else squelched, too! * * * * * There came a day when the doctor's wife rebelled. When her husband came home and ate his supper hastily and then rose to depart, she said, "You'd better wait at home a few minutes, John." "Why?" He put the question brusquely, his hat in his hand. "Because I think someone will ring here for you in a minute or two. Some man rang the office twice so I went to the 'phone to explain that you must be on your way to supper and he could find you here." "Who was it?" "I do not know." "Thunder! Why didn't you find out?" Mary looked straight at her husband. "How many times have I told you, John, that many people decline to give their names or their messages to any one but you. I think I should feel that way about it myself. For a long time I have dutifully done your bidding in the matter, but now I vow I will not trample my pride under my feet any longer--especially when it is all in vain. I will watch the 'phone as faithfully as in the past, but I will not ask for any name or any message. They will be given voluntarily if at all." "All right, Mary," said the doctor, gently, seeing that she was quite serious. "I do not mean to say that most of the people who 'phone are grouchy and disagreeable--far from it. Indeed the majority are pleasant and courteous. But it is those who are not who have routed me, and made me vow my vow. Don't ask me to break it, John, for I will not." And having delivered this declaration, Mary felt almost as free and independent as in ante-telephone days. The doctor had seated himself and leaning forward was swinging his hat restlessly between his knees. He waited five minutes.