He bowed, and followed her across the threshold, closed the door, and placed a chair for her, sitting down opposite, and surveying her critically through his gold-bowed glasses, thinking, perhaps, that her wonderful beauty was all the more striking for the deadly pallor it wore. “I think you married Mr. Sherwood last night?” he remarked. The violet eyes flashed and darkened, and Daisie’s golden head crested itself with sudden anger. “Perhaps you are aware of the circumstances of that marriage?” she asked, with icy hauteur. “Yes; an ill-timed joke on the part of our hostess; but, unfortunately, binding until the law is invoked to release you. So you are really Mrs. Sherwood.” “Do not remind me of that fact unless you wish to drive me mad!” she exclaimed entreatingly; and he gazed at her in simple wonder, replying: “Perhaps, then, I am mistaken in believing that you were engaged to Mr. Sherwood, and only angry because the marriage was a premature one?” “Yes, yes,” she said; then studied his face to see if she could trust him. It was the face of a man of sixty years, genial and open, with a sympathy that encouraged her to exclaim: “Doctor Burns, I am in sore trouble, and I need a friend’s advice. Will you be that friend?” “Most gladly, my dear young lady,” he replied, so kindly that she was emboldened to sketch for him, in few but moving words, her brief love story. “Now you see where I stand, Doctor Burns--married to one man and in love with another. Could anything be more distressing?” she cried appealingly; and he agreed with her that it was most unpleasant, while he thought within himself that the world had far too many such distressing cases. She continued eagerly: “Mr. Bain promised to secure a lawyer to-day to take my case, so of course I should not even be here under the same roof with Mr. Sherwood; but----” She paused, and he added pityingly: “The circumstances of the case made it impossible for you to decline returning here last night. Common humanity would have been outraged by a refusal. But why trouble yourself over the ethics of the case, my dear young lady? Divorce proceedings are not likely to be needed, since you may soon be a widow.” She shuddered at the bluntness of the words; then rallied her courage, and said frankly: “Doctor, that is why I wished to speak with you, to ask you for the plain truth. Is Royall Sherwood going to live or die?” “The issues of life and death are in God’s hands alone,” evasively. “But you are skilled in reading the signs, and you told Mrs. Fleming that he had one chance of life.” “Yes, I told her so; but it is so very slight, and life hangs on a thread. The operation to remove the bullet was very exhausting, but successful. He lies now in a comatose condition, from which he may rally to make a struggle for renewed existence, or he may sink soon into the sleep of death.”