I was fortunate in finding Dr. Squires in, though it was not his office hour. He seemed glad to see me and when I said:

“Doctor, I am off for New York,” he answered:

“What’s the matter with Boston, then?”

I explained that I thought that I could do better in New York and he agreed that my chances there were more promising. Then I said:

“Doctor, I want to thank you for all your kindness to me, and will you please tell me how much your bill is?”

He had not only come to see me two or three times a day during my illness, but he had also supplied all the medicines. He looked at me very seriously when I asked for his bill, and then he said in a deep thrilling voice:

“You do not owe me a cent. It is I who am indebted to you.”

I knew what he meant, and, oh, it did thrill me to think that my illness had brought those two beautiful people together, Lois and her doctor.

When I was going out, I said:

“Doctor, I am going on the stage. Perhaps I’ll succeed. Wish me good-luck.”