We'll put her in irons, my boy, so to speak." And so it was that Braden, worn and disspirited, gave up in despair and prepared for his return to London.

He went before an examining board in New York first and obtained his licence to become a practising physician and surgeon, and, with a set expression in his disillusioned eyes, peered out into the future in quest of the fame that was to take the place of a young girl's love.
He met his first patient in the Knickerbocker Cafe.

Lunching alone there one day, a week before the date selected for sailing, he was accosted by an extremely gay and pretty young woman who came over from a table of four in a distant corner of the room.
"Is this Dr.Braden Thorpe ?" she inquired, placing her hands on the back of the chair opposite and leaning forward with a most agreeable, even inviting smile.
Her face was familiar.

"Since day before yesterday," he replied, rising with a self-conscious flush.
"May I sit down?
I want to talk to you about myself." She sat down in the chair that an alert waiter pulled out for her.
"I am afraid you are labouring under a misapprehension," he said.

"I--I am not what you would call a practising physician as yet." "Aren't you looking for patients ?" she inquired.