"Should it not be medically examined before being placed with other children?" Mr. Thornton suggested. "Medically examined, stuff and nonsense! Why?" "A child left in the manner in which this infant was left may come from extremely unsanitary surroundings, and may carry disease with it. It is more than probable." "Disease nothin'!" said Drusilla, looking down at the baby. "I never saw a healthier child." At the word medical Daphne rose and went to a part of the room where she could be seen by Drusilla and not by her father, and when Drusilla looked up from inspecting the baby she caught sight of Daphne, who seemed to be staring at her fixedly with a meaning in her eye. Mr. Thornton, still intent upon the one subject where he saw a chance of having his advice acted upon, and consequently of retaining at least a semblance of authority, said: "I think a doctor should be sent for and the child medically examined." Drusilla commenced: "It's nonsense. There ain't--" but here she again caught Daphne's eye and saw a slight movement of the head which seemed to mean, "Say yes." Drusilla looked at her a moment uncomprehendingly; then, the nod being repeated more vigorously, she said: "Well--well--yes, if you believe it should be done, though for the life of me I don't see no sense in it. Who'll I send for?" "I would suggest Dr. Rathman. He is--" "Oh, Father!" interrupted Daphne. "He is so old and slow. He'd _never_ get here. Why don't you ask Dr. Eaton? He lives near here." Mr. Thornton pursed up his lips. "He is far too young. He has not the experience of Dr. Rathman." "But, Father, the baby isn't dying." Drusilla's shrewd old eyes looked keenly at Daphne's flushed face, and she laughed. "I think Daphne is right. A young doctor's better. I don't think old doctors have a hand with babies." "But Dr. Eaton is very young," remonstrated Mr. Thornton. "The younger the better, then perhaps he ain't forgot how the stomach-ache feels himself. You telephone him, Daphne." "No," said Daphne, a little embarrassed. "I think James had better do that. Oh, here's Mrs. Donald." The baby was given into the motherly arms of Mrs. Donald; and Mr. Thornton drew on his gloves and said very coldly, feeling that he had lost ground on every point, "Come, Daphne; we will go. When you have decided upon the final disposition of the child, you may, as always, command my services, Miss Doane. Come, Daphne." "But, Father, I'll stay a while with Miss Doane." "No, Daphne; you will go with me. Your mother needs you." Daphne cast an imploring glance at Drusilla. "Can't Daphne stay a while? I'd like to talk with her," Drusilla said. "No," said her father, with a finality in his tone that caused Daphne to go with him meekly, if unwillingly; "Daphne must return with me." Drusilla looked at the set face a moment, and then at the rebellious face of Daphne, and her own face broke into the tiny wrinkles that accompanied her smiles.