At five the general, with Strong and Bonner, could be made out four miles away, riding back from the peak. "I'll go a moment and inquire for Mr. Harris," said Mrs. Archer, "and ask the doctor when _we_ may visit him." So, leaving Lilian with Mrs. Stannard, and intending to be gone but a few minutes, the gentle, anxious-hearted woman, sunshade in hand, went forth from the shelter of the low veranda into the slanting, unclouded rays, and presently tapped lightly at the doctor's open door. There was no answer, yet from somewhere within came sound of masculine voices. Entering the dark hall, she tapped again at the entrance to the doctor's sitting-room, or den. A Navajo blanket hung like a _portiere_ across the open space, for door there was none, and, as no one came in answer to her modest signal, she ventured to push the curtain a bit to one side and peer within. The room was but dimly lighted, all windows but one on the north side being heavily draped. The doctor's reclining chair and reading table, the latter littered with books, pamphlets and pipes, were visible through a reminiscent haze of not too fragrant tobacco smoke, for the old predominated over the new. A rude sideboard stood over against her, between the northward windows, and thereon was stationed a demi-john of goodly proportions, with outlying pickets in the way of glasses. Bentley himself, though one of the old school, was an abstemious man, and therefore enabled to have at all times a supply of reliable stimulant for such of his callers as were of opposite faith. That some of that ilk had recently favored him was presumptively evident, no more by the sideboard display than by the sound of voices from an inner room, where two or three were uplifted in discussion, and neither was the doctor's. Now, Mrs. Archer much wished to see young Harris, to assure him of their deep interest in his welfare, of their desire to be of service to him, and their reason for not earlier intruding. Gentle and unselfish though she was, there was distinct sense of chagrin that Mrs. Stannard, or any woman, should have anticipated her coming. The doctor had promised to say just how soon he could approve her seeing his patient, and it was the doctor's fault she had come no sooner. Not until days thereafter did she know that Harris had asked for Mrs. Stannard. Not for even a Christmas home-going would Mrs. Stannard have let her know it--but Mrs. Stannard was a rare, rare woman.