"Oh, good Heavens, yes! Of course I'll promise," he groaned. "I suspect you could make me promise to shave my head and dance the tango barefooted down Washington Street, if you set out to. Oh, yes, I'll promise. But I can tell you right now that I shall wake up in the dead of night and pinch myself to make sure I have promised," he finished with wrathful emphasis.
Helen laughed light-heartedly. She even tossed the doctor a playful glance as she turned to go.
"All right! I don't care a mite how much you pinch yourself," she declared. "You've promised—and that's all I care for!" And she left the room with buoyant step.
"You see," observed Mrs. Thayer significantly, as the door closed behind her.
"Yes, I see—so far," nodded Dr. Frank Gleason with a sigh. "But I do wish I could see—what the end is going to be."
"It isn't given to us to see ends," responded Mrs. Thayer sententiously. "We can only attend to the beginnings and make them right."
"Humph!" grunted her brother, with some asperity. "I'm not saying I like the beginning, in this case. Honestly, to speak plainly, my dear Edith, I consider this thing one big fool business, from beginning to end."
There was a moment's pause; then very quietly Mrs. Thayer asked:—
"Can you suggest, dear, all things considered, anything else for us to do than what we are doing?"
"No—confound it! And that's what's the matter," groaned Frank Gleason. "But that isn't saying that I like to play the fool."