Major Carteret entered the room and was duly presented to the famous specialist.  Carteret’s anxious look lightened somewhat at sight of the array of talent present.  It suggested, of course, the gravity of the impending event, but gave assurance of all the skill and care which science could afford.

Dr. Burns was shown to the nursery, from which he returned in five minutes.

“The case is ready,” he announced.  “Are the gentlemen all present?”

“I believe so,” answered Dr. Price quickly.

Miller had not yet arrived.  Perhaps, thought Dr. Price, a happy accident, or some imperative call, had detained him.  This would be fortunate indeed.  Dr. Burns’s square jaw had a very determined look.  It would be a pity if any acrimonious discussion should arise on the eve of a delicate operation.  If the clock on the mantel would only move faster, the question might never come up.

“I don’t see Dr. Miller,” observed Dr. Burns, looking around the room.  “I asked him to come at eight.  There are ten minutes yet.”

Major Carteret looked up with a sudden frown.

“May I ask to whom you refer?” he inquired, in an ominous tone.

The other gentlemen showed signs of interest, not to say emotion.  Dr. Price smiled quizzically.

“Dr. Miller, of your city.  He was one of my favorite pupils.  He is also a graduate of the Vienna hospitals, and a surgeon of unusual skill.  I have asked him to assist in the operation.”

Every eye was turned toward Carteret, whose crimsoned face had set in a look of grim determination.

“The person to whom you refer is a negro, I believe?” he said.

“He is a colored man, certainly,” returned Dr. Burns, “though one would never think of his color after knowing him well.”

“I do not know, sir,” returned Carteret, with an effort at self-control, “what the customs of Philadelphia or Vienna may be; but in the South we do not call negro doctors to attend white patients.  I could not permit a negro to enter my house upon such an errand.”

“I am here, sir,” replied Dr. Burns with spirit, “to perform a certain operation.  Since I assume the responsibility, the case must be under my entire control.  Otherwise I cannot operate.”

“Gentlemen,” interposed Dr. Price, smoothly, “I beg of you both—­this is a matter for calm discussion, and any asperity is to be deplored.  The life at stake here should not be imperiled by any consideration of minor importance.”

“Your humanity does you credit, sir,” retorted Dr. Burns.  “But other matters, too, are important.  I have invited this gentleman here.  My professional honor is involved, and I merely invoke my rights to maintain it.  It is a matter of principle, which ought not to give way to a mere prejudice.”

“That also states the case for Major Carteret,” rejoined Dr. Price, suavely.  “He has certain principles,—­call them prejudices, if you like,—­certain inflexible rules of conduct by which he regulates his life.  One of these, which he shares with us all in some degree, forbids the recognition of the negro as a social equal.”