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FLAMING

YOUTH

15

into the front room. Rathbone, his finely cut face mottled and livid, lurched heavily out of his chair. “Is she going to die?” he asked, looking pitifully unlike the traditional villain of such a drama. “Perhaps,” returned the physician shortly. “Because of—was it this that brought on the attack?” Osterhout eyed him with grim distaste. “It didn’t help any,” he answered, as he had answered Mona. “Good God! If she dies through my fault & “You should have thought of that before.” “I love her so!” groaned the man. His face changed. “T’ll know what to do,” he muttered in quiet, self-centred determination. ‘And what’s that?” demanded the physician. “Nothing,” replied the other, startled and sullen. Osterhout reached him in three steps. “Suicide, perhaps,” he said.

“That’s my business.” “Tt is. If you’re a low, dirty coward.” Rathbone straightened. “I won’t take that from any man.” © “Lower your voice, you fool! And listen to me. If she dies and you kill yourself, do you realize what that would mean? It would be advertising this situation to the world. Scandal and shame for the family. Oh, it’s an easy way out for you. But can’t you be man enough to think of others a little?” “Isn't it scandal and shame anyway?” “No. It isn’t,” returned the doctor energetically. “I’m going to get her out of it. All you have to do is to obey orders.”

“T’]] do that,” said Rathbone eagerly and brokenly. “T’]l do anything you say.

you

”

And if ever I can

repay