As I entered the living room Katie rose from her seat at the door of my mother-in-law’s room.

“She not move while you gone,” she said.  “She sleep all time, but I ’fraid she awful seeck, she breathe so hard.”

I went lightly into the bedroom and stood looking down upon the austere old face against the pillow.  It was a flushed old face now, and the eyelids twitched as if there were pain somewhere in the body.  Her breathing, too, was more rapid and heavy than when I had left her, or so I fancied.

My inability to do anything for her depressed me.  By slipping my hand under the blankets I had ascertained that the hot water bags were sufficiently warm.  There was nothing more for me to do but to sit quietly and watch her until the physician’s arrival.

I wanted to bring Dr. Pettit to her bedside before she should awaken.  Then I would let him deal with her obstinate refusal to see a physician.  But how I wished that Dicky would come home.

As if I had rubbed Aladdin’s lamp, I heard the hall door slam, and my husband came rushing into the room.

“What is the matter with mother?” Dicky demanded, his face and voice filled with anxiety.

I sprang to him and put my hand to his lips, for he had almost shouted the words.

“Hush!  She is asleep,” I whispered.  “Don’t waken her if you can help it.”

“Why isn’t there a doctor here?” he demanded fiercely.

“Dr. Pettit will be here in a very few moments,” I whispered rapidly.  “Your mother said she would not have a physician, but she appeared so ill I did not dare to wait until your return to the studio.  I telephoned you, and when Miss Draper said she did not know where to get you, I ’phoned to Dr. Pettit on my own authority.”

“You don’t think mother is in any danger, do you, Madge?”

“Why, I don’t think I am a good judge of illness,” I answered, evasively, unwilling to hurt Dicky by the fear in my heart.  “The physician ought to be here any minute now, and then we will know.”

A sharp, imperative ring of the bell and Katie’s entrance punctuated my words.  Dicky started toward the door as Katie opened it to admit the tall figure of Dr. Pettit.

“Ah, Dr. Pettit I believe we have met before,” Dicky said easily.  “When Mrs. Graham spoke of you I did not remember that we had seen you so recently.  I am glad that we were able to get you.”

“Thank you,” the physician returned gravely.  “Where is the patient?”

“In this room.”  Dicky turned toward the bedroom door, and Dr. Pettit at once walked toward it.  I mentally contrasted the two men as I followed them to my mother-in-law’s room.  There was a charming ease of manner about Dicky which the other man did not possess.  He was, in fact, almost awkward in his movements, and decidedly stiff in his manner.  But there was an appearance of latent strength in every line of his figure, a suggestion of power and ability to cope with emergencies.  I had noticed it when he took charge of the baby in convulsions who had been brought to my apartment by its nurse.  I marked it again as Dicky paused at the door of his mother’s room.