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When he had entered his study he sat down to think. His man announced a patient, but the doctor made no reply. Suddenly he glanced up at the waiting servant.
"Will you tell Mr. Long as he leaves that I wish to speak to him."
Then he went on thinking. Soon there was a knock, and Long came into his study. The doctor motioned to the chair he had just left, and, reaching for a box of cigars, took one and lit it. Long watched him expectantly.
"Shall you stay on here much longer?" the doctor asked at last, in his usual composed manner.
"Oh, I don't much know. I want to get back to Paris in the winter if——"
"Don't bother about that," the doctor interrupted him, hastily. "You can trust me to find the amount, you know, until you are squarely on your feet; only," his voice grew sharper, "you won't do much here. You should go at once."
The young man stared.
"Sail next week," the doctor continued, blandly, but fixing his eyes steadily on Long's face.
"I don't know that I can accept——"