"She's the star above me," he said; "and I am crushed by my own presumption. Is there any such fool as the man that breaks his heart twice for the impossible?" "But it isn't impossible," I cried. "Hasn't she--as far as a woman can--hasn't she called you back to her? What more do you expect her to do? A woman's delicacy forbids her screaming for a man! I think Eleanor has already gone a tremendous way in just hinting--" "You may be right," he said pathetically; "but then you may also be wrong. The risk is too terrible for me to run. It will comfort me all my life to think that perhaps she does love me in secret!" "Do you mean to say you're going to give it all up?" I roared. "You needn't get so warm about it," he returned. "After all, I have some justification in thinking she doesn't care." "What on earth do you suppose she invited you for, then?" "Well, it would be different," he said, "if I had a note from her--a flower--some little tender reminder of those dear old dead days in the Pullman!" "She's saving up all that for Morristown," I said. For the first time in our acquaintance Doctor Jones looked at me with suspicion. His blue eyes clouded. He was growing a little restive under my handling. "You seem to make the matter a very personal one," he observed. "Well, I love Freddy," I explained. "It naturally brings your own case very close to me. And then I am so positive that you love Eleanor and that Eleanor loves you. Put yourself in my place, Doctor! Do you mean that you'd do nothing to bring two such noble hearts together?" He seized my hand and wrung it effusively. He really _did_ love Eleanor, you know. The only fault with him was his being so darned humble about it. He was eaten up with a sense of his own inferiority. And yet I could see he was just tingling to go to Morristown. Of course, I crowded him all I could, but the best I could accomplish was his promise to "think it over." I hated to leave him wabbling, but patients were scuffling at the door and fighting on the stairs. The next thing I did was to get Freddy on the long-distance 'phone. "Freddy," I said, after explaining the situation, "you must get Eleanor to telegraph to him direct!" "What's the good of asking what she won't do?" bubbled the sweet little voice. "Can't you persuade her?" "I know she won't do it!" "Then you must forge it," I said desperately. "It needn't be anything red-hot, you know. But something tender and sincere: 'Shall be awfully disappointed if you don't come,' or, 'There was a time when you would not have failed me!'" "It's impossible." "Then he won't budge a single inch!" I replied. "Ezra?" "Darling!" "Suppose I just signed the telegram Van Coort?" "The very thing!" "If he misunderstood it--I mean if he thought it really came from Eleanor--there couldn't be any fuss about it afterward, could there?" "And, of course, you'll send the official invitation from Mrs. Matthewman besides?" "For Saturday?" "Yes, Saturday!"