Paula, who was now leaning on the arm of the supremely contented Tod, smiled gratefully: "You are very kind, doctor--I--thank you. It does oppress me when I see so many people who are not--not kindly disposed. I'm glad to be here--with my friends." While Tod talked in an eager undertone with Paula, Dr. McMutrie took Mr. Ricaby and Mrs. Marsh aside. "The girl's all right," he said. "She's suffering from intense nervousness, that's all! While we were questioning her Mr. Marsh came into the room and took Mr. Cooley away--so I thought I'd bring her down here until she's wanted. By the way, Mrs. Marsh, did you select Dr. Zacharie to attend your niece?" "No--I certainly did not!" she replied positively. The examiner hesitated and coughed as if unwilling to express his frank opinion of Mr. Cooley's physician. "He is certainly a most peculiar man-- I--don't agree with him at all. He's essentially too drastic, and I don't think he understands. Do you know who did engage him?" "Yes--I think----" She stopped suddenly, seeing that Mr. Ricaby was signalling her to remain silent. "Well, I must get back," said Dr. McMutrie, rising. "You had better stay here. I don't approve of your niece remaining at Tocquencke, Mrs. Marsh, and I am going to say so. She ought never to have come----" With a courteous bow to Mrs. Marsh and the others, he turned and left the office. "Did you tell him?" demanded Tod eagerly, when he was out of earshot. "No," replied the lawyer quickly, "we'll tell no one. I don't want the scoundrel to escape." "I've told Miss Paula everything," said Tod gaily. Jokingly, he added: "Would you believe it? She's sorry to leave Sea Rest!" Paula laughed, a frank, girlish peal of merriment unclouded by care or anxiety. It was the first laugh since she had come to the asylum, and she was surprised how good it felt. Her eyes sparkled with new joy and happiness. Thank God! Her troubles were at an end. Freedom was now only a question of minutes. The terrible nightmare was over, a thing of the past. No more would she be terrified by the sight of padded cells or haunted by Dr. Zacharie's cruel, diabolical smile. And as she clung more tightly to Tod's arm she thought with gratitude in her heart how true and devoted a friend he had been through all these dark days. But for him, her uncle and Mr. Cooley might have succeeded in their design, they might have kept her confined in the asylum for years. The outside world would never have known or cared. She might have died there and no one been the wiser. She felt sorry for Mrs. Marsh, for she believed in the sincerity of the woman's repentance. Besides, she was ready to forgive her anything. Was she not the mother of the one being she loved better than anyone in the world? Turning to Mrs. Marsh, she said with a sympathetic smile: "It's fortunate for me--but is hard for you, isn't it?" "Oh, never mind me," murmured Mrs. Marsh, averting her face. "You did not deserve to suffer. I do."