She entered so quietly that Mr. Levice, reading by the window, did not glance from his book. She stood a moment regarding the small thoughtful-faced, white-haired man.
If one were to judge but by results, Jules Levice would be accounted a fortunate man. Nearing the allotted threescore and ten, blessed with a loving, beloved wife and this one idolized ewe-lamb, surrounded by luxury, in good health, honored, and honorable, --trouble and travail seemed to have passed him by. But this scene of human happiness was the result of intelligent and unremitting effort. A high state of earthly beatitude has seldom been attained without great labor of mind or body by ourselves or those akin to us. Jules Levice had been thrown on the world when a boy of twelve. He resolved to become happy. Many of us do likewise; but we overlook the fact that we are provided with feet, not wings, and cannot fly to the goal. His dream of happiness was ambitious; it soared beyond contentment. Not being a lily of the field, he knew that he must toil; any honest work was acceptable to him. He was possessed of a fine mind; he cultivated it. He had a keen observation; he became a student of his fellow-men; and being strong and untiring, he became rich. This was but the nucleus of his ambitions, and it came to him late in life, but not too late for him to build round it his happy home, and to surround himself with the luxuries of leisure for attaining the pinnacle of wide information that he had always craved. His was merely the prosperity of an intellectual, self-made man whose time for rest had come.
Ruth seated herself on a low stool that she drew up before him, and laid her hand upon his.
"You, darling?" He spoke in a full, musical voice with a marked French accent.
"Can you spare me a few minutes, Father?"
"I am all ears;" he shut the book, and his hand closed about hers.
"Jennie was here just now."
"And did not come in to see me?"
"She had something to tell me."
"A secret?"
"Yes; something I must repeat to you."
"Yes?"
"Father--Jennie thinks--she has reason to know that--dear, do you think Mother is perfectly well?"
"No, my child; I know she is not."
This quiet assurance was staggering.
"And you allow her to go on in this way without calling in a physician?" A wave of indignant color suffused her cheeks.
"Yes."
"But--but--why?" She became a little confused under his calm gaze, feeling on the instant that she had implied an accusation unjustly.
"Because, Ruth, I have become convinced of it only within the past week.
Your mother knows it herself, and is trying to hide it from me."
"Did she admit it?"
"I have not spoken of it to her; she is very excitable, and as she wishes to conceal it, I do not care to annoy her by telling her of my discovery."
"But isn't it wrong--unwise--to allow her to dissipate so much?"
"I have managed within the past week to keep you as quiet as possible."
"But to-night--forgive me, Father--you insist on our going to this reception."
"Yes, my sweet confessor; but I have a good reason, --one not to be spoken of."
"'Those who trust us educate us,'" she pleaded in wistful earnestness.
"Then your education is complete. Well, I knew your mother would resist seeing any physician, for fear of his measures going contrary to her desires; so I have planned for her to meet to-night a certain doctor whom I would trust professionally with my wife's life, and on whom I can rely for the necessary tact to hide the professional object of their meeting. What do you think of my way, dear?"
For answer she stooped and kissed his hand.
"May I know his name?" she asked after a pause.
"His name is Kemp, --Dr. Herbert Kemp."
"Why, he lives a few blocks from here; I have seen his sign. Is he an old physician?"
"I should judge him to be between thirty-five and forty. Not old certainly, but one with the highest reputation for skill. Personally he is a man of great dignity, inspiring confidence in every one."
"Where did you meet him?"
"In the hospitals," said her father quickly. "But I will introduce him to you to-night. Don't lose your head when you talk to him."
"Why should I?"
"Because he is a magnificent fellow; and I wish my daughter to hold her own before a man whom I admire so heartily."
"Why, this is the first time you have ever given me worldly advice," she laughed.
"Only a friendly hint," he answered, rising and putting his book in its place with the precision of a spinster.
