Helena looked at him with a strange little smile quivering on her lips.

“It’s a good thing I’ve got a sense of humor,” she said slowly, “or else I think I’d—­I’d—­”

“No, you wouldn’t,” said Madison cheerfully.  “But time’s flying.  You’re going to have visitors in a few minutes, and here’s where the Patriarch gets tucked away out of sight behind the veil for a starter, leaving his presence hovering and throbbing all around in the air—­you stay with him, Flopper, in a back room somewhere and hold his hand.  Where is he now?”

“In his armchair in the sitting-room,” said Helena.  “And he’s still listening in that queer way he did out on the lawn.  I think he knows in a little way what’s happened.”

“That’s good,” said Madison; “it’ll make him happy.  Well, lead him gently into retirement.  I guess that’s all—­now hurry.”

“Who is it that’s coming?” interposed Helena quickly, as Madison started away from the window.

Madison grinned.

“Some friends of the Hopper’s.  Mr. and Mrs. Thankoffering—­you’ll like them immensely, Helena.  The lady walks quite well now, and—­”

“Walks!” exclaimed the Flopper, who evidently had not assimilated Madison’s previous reference to Mrs. Thornton.  “De lady dat I come wid in de private car—­walks?”

“Of course,” said Madison pleasantly.

“Cured?  All cured?” gasped the Flopper.

“Of course,” said Madison again—­complacently.

“Say,” said the Flopper, “say, I’m goin’ dippy.  Another one de same as de kid, Doc?”

“Same as the kid, Flopper—­faith.”

“Swipe me!” said the Flopper helplessly.

—­XII—­

“SAID THE SPIDER TO THE FLY”

By the wheel-chair, Mrs. Thornton, her husband and Doc Madison were in earnest conversation—­and around them was a mass of people.  The crowd had divided into two, or, rather, was constantly coming and going between two points—­young Holmes and Mrs. Thornton—­and still the hysteria was upon men and women, still that wavering, moanlike sound floated over the lawn.

“I am stunned and stupified,” Madison was saying, and his hand trembled visibly in its outflung gesture.  “I am not, I am afraid, a man of deep sensibilities, but I cannot help feeling that I have been permitted, been chosen even, to witness this sight, a sight that will stay with me till I die, for some great, ulterior purpose.  It’s as though this place were hallowed, set apart; that here, if only one has faith, that man’s miraculous power is boundless—­that I should help someway.  I—­I’m afraid I don’t explain myself well.”

“I know what you mean,” Mrs. Thornton returned eagerly.  “It is what I was saying to my husband—­to make this place known, to help to bring suffering people here.”

Madison nodded silently.

“And if you, who have no personal cause for gratitude, feel like that, how much more should we who—­who—­oh, there are no words to tell it—­my heart is too full”—­Mrs. Thornton smiled through tears.  “Robert, you said you would do anything.”