"If I have a wife I don't need a bald spot," he responded. "A wife is a warrant of respectability. Every doctor will tell you that's the way patients feel. I'm tired of going to see some old woman for Dr. Cheever, and sending up my card and overhearing her say: 'I won't see him! I don't want Dr. Demarest! I sent for Dr. Cheever, and it's Dr. Cheever I want to see!' That has happened to me, and not only once or twice, either." "How could any woman be so unlady-like?" the girl asked, indignantly. "She must have been a vulgar old thing!" "There's more than one of her in New York," the young doctor asserted, "and that's one reason why I've got to get married. And between you and me, I think my chance of staying with Dr. Cheever would be better if I had a wife. Of course, he doesn't say so, but I can't help knowing what he thinks." The girl made no comment on this, and they rode along side by side. They were now on the crest of a hill, and they overlooked the broad expanse of the reservoir. The almost level rays of the sinking sun thrust themselves through the leafy branches and made a rosy halo about her fair head. "So that's why I've come to you for advice," he began again. "But I don't see what good my advice will be to you," she returned. "You don't expect me to pick out a wife for you, do you?" "Well, that's about it!" he admitted. "The idea!" she retorted. "Why, it's perfectly absurd!" "So long as I cannot get the girl I love, marriage ceases to be a matter of sentiment with me," he went on, stolidly. "I come to you as a friend who knows girls--knows them in a way no man can ever know them. I want your help in selecting a woman who will make a good wife for a doctor." "How do you know she will have you?" she thrust at him. "Of course, I don't know," he admitted. "I can't know till I try, can I? And if at first I don't succeed I must try, try again. If the one you pick out refuses me I'll have to get you to pick out another." "So it's a mere marriage of convenience you are after?" the girl asked. "That's all very well for you, no doubt; but how about the woman who marries you? I don't think it's a very nice lookout for her, do you? That's just the way with you men always! You never think about the woman's feelings!" "I'll do my duty to her," he answered. "Your _duty_!" sniffed the girl, indignantly. "I'll be so attentive to her that she will never guess my heart is given to another," he went on. "Don't be too sure of that," she returned. "Women have very sharp eyes--sharper than you men think--especially about a thing like that!" "I am not going to borrow trouble," the Doctor declared, suavely. "I shall always be as nice to her as I can, and if it is in my power to make her happy, then she will be happy. But we needn't anticipate. What I want you to do now is to help me to find the right woman. It will be my business to take care of her afterward."