“Yet it seems such a noble work.”

“Don’t think I depreciate it, but what I am doing is only remedial What I hope to do is to prevent.”

“How is it possible?”

“For four years my every free hour has been given to studying what is now called tuberculosis, and my dream is to demonstrate that it is in fact the parent disease—­a breaking down—­disintegration—­of the bodily substance—­the tissue, or cell—­and to give to the world a specific.”

“How splendid!” exclaimed Constance.  “And you believe you can?”

“Every day makes me more sure that both demonstration and specific are possible—­but it is unlikely that I shall be the one to do it.”

“I do not see why?”

“Because there are many others studying the disease who are free from the necessity of supporting themselves, and so can give far more time and money to the investigation than is possible for me.  Even the scientist must be rich in these days, Miss Durant, if he is to win the great prizes.”

“Won’t you tell me something about yourself?” requested Constance, impulsively.

“There really is nothing worth while yet.  I was left an orphan young, in the care of an uncle who was able to do no better for me than to get me a place in a drug-store.  By doing the night-work it was possible to take the course at the medical college; and as I made a good record, this position was offered to me.”

“It—­you could make it interesting if you tried.”

“I’m afraid I am not a realist, Miss Durant.  I dream of a future that shall be famous by the misery and death I save the world from, but my past is absolutely eventless.”

As he ended, the carriage drew up at the house, and the doctor helped her out.

“You will take Dr. Armstrong back to the hospital, Murdock,” she ordered.

“Thank you, but I really prefer a walk before going to my social intimates, the bacilli,” answered the doctor, as he went up the steps with her.  Then, after he had rung the bell, he held out his hand and said:  “Miss Durant, I need scarcely say, after what I have just told you, that my social training has been slight—­so slight that I was quite unaware that the old adage, ‘Even a cat may look at a king,’ was no longer a fact until I overheard what was said the other day.  My last wish is to keep you from coming to the hospital, and in expressing my regret at having been the cause of embarrassment to you, I wish to add a pledge that henceforth, if you will resume your visits, you and Swot shall be free from my intrusion.  Good-night,” he ended, as he started down the steps.

“But I never—­really I have no right to exclude—­nor do I wish—­” protested the girl; and then, as the servant opened the front door, even this halting attempt at an explanation ceased.  She echoed a “Good-night,” adding, “and thank you for all your kindness,” and very much startled and disturbed the footman, as she passed into the hallway, by audibly remarking, “Idiot!”