GEOFFREY STRONG

By

Laura E. Richards

Author of

"Captain January," "Melody," "Marie,"etc.

TO Richard Sullivan, KINDEST OFUNCLES, FRIENDS, AND CRITICS,THIS STORY ISAFFECTIONATELY DEDICATED

CONTENTS

CHAPTER

I. THE TEMPLE OF VESTA

II. THE YOUNG DOCTOR

III. GARDEN FANCIES

IV. MOSTLY PROFESSIONAL

V. LETTER-WRITING ANDHYSTERICS

VI. INFORMATION

VII. FESTIVITY

VIII. REVELATION

IX. SIDE LIGHTS

X. OVER THE WAY

XI. BROKEN BONES

XII. CONVALESCENCE

XIII. RECOVERY

ILLUSTRATIONS.

He paddled on in silence

The young doctor glancing around sawall these things.

He stood looking at her, his hand stillon the hammock rope.

"There he comes, full chisel!" criedIthuriel Butters.

CHAPTER I.

THE TEMPLE OF VESTA

"That's a pleasant looking house," saidthe young doctor. "What's the matterwith my getting taken in there "

The old doctor checked his horse, andlooked at the house with a smile.

"Nothing in the world," he said, "exceptthe small fact that they wouldn't takeyou."

"Why not " asked the young man,vivaciously. "Too rich too proud tooyoung too old what's the matter withthem "

The old doctor laughed outright thistime. "You young firebrand!" he said.

"Do you think you are going to takethis village by storm That house is theTemple of Vesta. It is inhabited by theVestal Virgins, who tend the sacred fire,and do other things beside. You mightas well ask to be taken into themeeting-house to board."

"This is more attractive than themeetinghouse," said the young doctor."This is one of the most attractivehouses I ever saw."

He looked at it earnestly, and as theydrove along the elm-shaded street, heturned in his seat to look at it again.

It certainly was an attractive house. Its

front of bright clean red brick wasperhaps too near the street; but thegarden, whose tall lilac and syringabushes waved over the top of the highwall, must, he thought, run back someway, and from the west windows theremust be a glorious sea-view.

The house looked both genteel andbenevolent. The white stone steps andwindow-sills and the white fan over thedoor gave a certain effect of clean linenthat was singularly pleasing. The youngdoctor, unlike Doctor Johnson, had apassion for clean linen. The knocker,too, was of the graceful long ovalshape he liked, and burnished to thelast point of perfection, and the

shining windows were so placed as togive an air of cheerful interrogation tothe whole.

"I like that house!" said the youngdoctor again. "Tell me about thepeople!"

Again the old doctor laughed. "I tellyou they are the Vestal Virgins!" herepeated. "There are two of them, MissPhoebe and Miss Vesta Blyth. MissPhoebe is as good as gold, butsomething of a man-hater. She doesn'tthink much of the sex in general, butshe is a good friend of mine, and she'llbe good to you for my sake. MissVesta" the young doctor, who was

observant, noted a slight change in hishearty voice "Vesta Blyth is a saint."

"What kind of saint invalid bedriddenblind "

"No, no, no! saints don't all have to bebedridden. Vesta is a you might call herSaint Placidia. Her life has beenshadowed. She was once engaged to avery worthy young man thirty years ago.The day before the wedding he wasdrowned; sailboat capsized in a squall,just in the bay here. Since then shekeeps a light burning in the back hall,looking over the water. That's why I callthe house the Temple of Vesta."

"Day and night "

"No, no! lights it at sunset everyevening regularly. Sun dips, Vesta lightsher lamp. Pretty I think so."

"Affecting, certainly!" said the youngdoctor. "And she has mourned herlover ever since "

The old doctor gave him a quaint look."People don't mourn thirty years," hesaid, "unless their minds are diseased.Women mourn longer than men, ofcourse, but ten years would be a longlimit, even for a woman. Memory, ofcourse, may last as long as life sacredand tender memory," his voice dropped

a little, and he passed his hand acrosshis forehead, "but not mourning. Vestais a little pensive, a little silent; morehabit than anything else now. A sweetwoman; the sweetest "

The old doctor seemed to forget hiscompanion, and flicked the old brownhorse pensively, as they jogged along,saying no more.

The young doctor waited a little beforehe put his next question.

"The two ladies live alone always "

"Yes no!" said the old doctor, comingout of his reverie. "There's Diploma

Crotty, help, tyrant, governor-in-chiefof the kitchen. Now and then shethinks they'd better have a visitor, andtells them so; but not very often, itupsets her kitchen. But here we are atthe parsonage, and I'll take you in."

The young doctor made his visit at theparsonage dutifully and carefully. Hemeant to make a good impressionwherever he went. It was no such easymatter to take the place of the olddoctor, who, after a lifetime of faithfuland loving work, had been ordered offfor a year's rest and travel; but theyoung doctor had plenty of courage,and meant to do his best. He answeredevasively the inquiry of the minister's

wife as to where he meant to board;and though he noted down carefullythe addresses she gave him of nicemotherly women who would keep histhings in order, and have an eye to himin case he should be ailing, he did notintend to trouble these good ladies ifhe could help himself.

"I want to live in that brick house!" hesaid to himself. "I'll have a try for it,anyhow. The old ladies can't be insultedby my telling them they have the besthouse in the village."

After dinner he went for a walk, andstrolled along the pleasant shady street.There were many good houses, for

Elmerton was an old village. Vesselshad come into her harbour in bygonedays, and substantial merchant captainshad built the comfortable, roomymansions which stretched their amplefronts under the drooping elms, whiletheir back windows looked out overthe sea, breaking at the very foot oftheir garden walls. But there was nohouse that compared, in the youngdoctor's mind, with the Temple ofVesta. He was walking slowly past it,admiring the delicate tracery on thewhite window-sills, when the dooropened, and a lady came out. Theyoung doctor observed her as she camedown the steps; it was his habit toobserve everything. The lady was past

sixty, tall and erect, and walked stiffly.

"Rheumatic!" said the young doctor,and ran over in his mind certainremedies which he had found effectivein rheumatism.

She was dressed in sober gray silk,made in the fashion of thirty yearsbefore, and carried an ancient parasolwith a deep silk fringe. As she reachedthe sidewalk she dropped herhandkerchief. Standing still a moment,she regarded it with grave displeasure,then tried to take it up on the point ofher parasol. In an instant the youngdoctor had crossed the street, picked upthe handkerchief, and offered it to her

with a bow and a pleasant smile.

"I thank you, sir!" said Miss PhoebeBlyth. "You are extremely obliging."

"Don't mention it, please!" said theyoung doctor. "It was a pleasure. Have Ithe honour of speaking to Miss Blyth Iam Doctor Strong. Doctor Stedmanmay have spoken to you of me."

"He has indeed done so!" said MissPhoebe; and she held out her silk-gloved hand with dignified cordiality. "Iam glad to make your acquaintance, sir.I shall hope to have the pleasure ofwelcoming you at my house at an earlydate."

"Thank you! I shall be most happy. MayI walk along with you, as we seem to begoing the same way I have beenadmiring your house so very much,Miss Blyth. It is the finest specimen ofits kind I have ever seen. How fine thattracery is over the windows; and howseldom you see a fan so graceful as that!Should you object to my making asketch of it some day I'm very muchinterested in Colonial houses."

A faint red crept into Miss Phoebe'scheek; it was one of her dreams to havean oil-painting of her house. Theyoung doctor had found a joint in herharness.

"I should be indeed pleased " shebegan; and, being slightly fluttered, shedropped her handkerchief again, andagain the young doctor picked it upand handed it to her.

"I am distressed!" said Miss Phoebe. "Iam somewhat hampered byrheumatism, Doctor Strong. It is notuncommon in persons of middle age."

"No, indeed! My mother I mean myaunt younger sister of my mother'sused to suffer terribly with rheumatism.I was fortunate enough to be able torelieve her a good deal. If you wouldlike to try the prescription, Miss Blyth,

it is entirely at your service. Notprofessionally, please understand, notprofessionally; a mere neighbourlyattention. I hope we shall beneighbours. Don't mention it, pleasedon't, because I shall be so glad, youknow. Besides you have a little look ofmy aunt; she has very regular features."

Miss Phoebe thanked him with a rathertremulous dignity; he was a mostcourteous and attractive young man,but so impetuous, that she felt adisturbance of her cool blood. It wassingular, though, how little dear DoctorStedman had been able to do for herrheumatism, for as many years as hehad been attending her. Perhaps newer

methods it must be confessed thatDoctor Stedman was growing old.

"Where do you intend to lodge, DoctorStrong " she asked, by way of changingthe subject gracefully.

The young doctor did not know, wasquite at a loss.

"There is only one house that I want tolodge in!" he said, and his bold face hadgrown suddenly timid, like aschoolboy's. "That is, of course thereare plenty of good houses in thevillage, Miss Blyth, excellent houses,and excellent people in them, I have nodoubt; but well, there is only one house

for me. You know what house I mean,Miss Blyth, because you know how onecan feel about a really fine house. Themoment I saw it I said, 'That is thehouse for me!' But Doctor Stedmansaid there was no possible chance ofmy getting taken in there."

"I really do not know how DoctorStedman should speak with authorityon the subject!" said Miss PhoebeBlyth.

Young doctor! young doctor! is this theway you are going to comport yourselfin the village of Elmerton If so, therewill be flutterings indeed in the dove-cotes. Before night the whole village

knew that the young doctor was goingto board with the Blyth girls!

CHAPTER II.

THE YOUNG DOCTOR

"And he certainly is a remarkable youngman!" said Miss Phoebe Blyth. "Is henot, Sister Vesta "

Miss Vesta came out of her reverie; notwith a start, she never started, but withthe quiet awakening, like that of a babyin the morning, that was peculiar to her.

"Yes! oh, yes!" she said. "I consider himso. I think his coming providential."

"How so " asked the visitor. There wasa slight acidity in her tone, for Mrs.Weight was one of the motherlypersons mentioned by the minister'swife, and had looked forward to caringfor the young doctor herself. With herfour children, all croupy, it would havebeen convenient to have a physician inthe house, and as the wife of the seniordeacon, what could be more proper

"I must say he doesn't lookremarkable," she added; "but the light-complected seldom do, to my mind."

"It is years," said Miss Vesta, "sinceSister Phoebe has suffered so little withher rheumatism. Doctor Strongunderstands her constitution as no oneelse ever has done, not even dearDoctor Stedman. Sister Phoebe canstoop down now like a girl; can't you,Sister Phoebe It is a long time since shehas been able to stoop down."

Miss Vesta's soft white face glowedwith pleasure; it was a gentle glow, likethat at the heart of certain white roses.

Mrs. Weight showed little enthusiasm.

"I never have rheumatism!" she said,briefly. "I've always wore gold beads. If

you'd have tried gold beads, Phoebe, ora few raisins in your pocket, it's mybelief you'd never have had all thistrouble."

It was now Miss Phoebe's turn tocolour, but hers was the hard red of awinter pear.

"I am not superstitious, Anna Maria,"she said. "Doctor Strong considers goldbeads for rheumatism absurd, and Ifully agree with him. As for raisins inthe pocket, that is nonsense, ofcourse."

"It's best to be sure of your facts beforereflecting upon other folks'

statements!" said Mrs. Weight, withdignity. "I know whereof I speak,Phoebe. Father Weight is ninety yearsold this very month, and he has carriedraisins for forty years, and never had atwinge of rheumatism in all that time.The same raisins, too; they havehardened into stone, as you may say,with what they have absorbed. I don'tneed to see things clearer than that."

"H'm!" said Miss Phoebe, with thesuspicion of a sniff. "Did he ever haveit before "

"I wasn't acquainted with him before,"said Mrs. Weight, stiffly.

There was a pause; then the visitorwent on, dropping her voice with acertain mystery. "You may talk ofsuperstition, Phoebe, but I must say I'dsooner be what some folks callsuperstitious than have no belief at all.I don't wish to reflect upon any person,but I must say that, in my opinion,Doctor Strong is little better than aninfidel. To see a perishing humancreature set himself up against theOrdering of Providence is a thing I amsorry to meet with in this parish."

"Has Doctor Strong set himself againstProvidence " asked Miss Phoebe, herback very rigid, her knitting-needlespointed in stern interrogation.

"You shall judge for yourselves, girls!"Mrs. Weight spoke with unction. "Atthe same time, I wish it to beunderstood that what I say is for thisroom only; I am not one to spreadabroad. Well! it has never beendoubted, to my knowledge, that thelower animals are permitted to absorbdiseases from children, who haveimmortal souls to save. Even DoctorStedman, who is advanced enough inall conscience, never denied that in myhearing. Well! Mrs. Ezra Sloper I don'tknow whether you are acquainted withher, girls; I have my butter of her. Shelives out on the Saugo Road; a mostrespectable woman. She has a child

with a hump back; fell when it was ababy, and never got over it. I found shewasn't doing anything for the child,nice little boy, four years old; humpgrowing right out of his shoulders. Isaid to her, 'Susan,' I said, 'you want toget a little dog, and let it sleep with thatchild, and let the child play with it all hecan, and get real attached to it. Ifanything will cure the child, that will.'

"She said, 'Mis' Weight,' she said, 'I'll doit!' and she did. She thanked me, too, asgrateful as ever I was thanked. Well,girls," Mrs. Weight leaned forward, herhands on her knees, and spoke slowlyand impressively, "as true as I sit here,in three months' time that dog was

humpbacked, and growing more soevery day."

She paused, drawing a long breath oftriumph, and looked from one to theother of her hearers.

"Well!" said Miss Phoebe, dryly. "Didthe child get well And where doesDoctor Strong's infidelity come in "

"The child would have got well," saidMrs. Weight, with tragic emphasis. "Thechild might be well, or near it, thisliving day of time, if the Ordering ofProvidence had not been interferedwith. The child had a spell of stomachtrouble, and Doctor Strong was sent

for. He ordered the dog out of thehouse; said it had fleas, and sore eyes,and I don't know what. Susan Sloper isa weak woman, and she gave in, andthat child goes humpbacked to itsgrave. I hope Doctor Strong is preparedto answer for it at the Last Day."

Miss Phoebe laid down her knitting-needles; but before she could reply,Doctor Strong himself came in,bringing the breeze with him.

"How do you do, Mrs. Weight " he said,heartily. "How is Billy croupy againDoes he go out every day Do you keephis window open at night, and give hima cold bath every morning Fresh air

and bathing are absolutely necessary,you know, with that tendency. Have youtaken off all that load of flannel "

Mrs. Weight muttered something aboutsupper-time, and fled before thequestioner. The young doctor turned tohis hostess, with the quick, merry smilehe had. "I had to send her away!" hesaid. "You are flushed, Miss Blyth, andMiss Vesta is tired. Yes, you are, MissVesta; what is the use of denying it "

He placed a cushion behind Miss Vesta,and she nestled against it with a littlecomfortable sigh. She looked at theyoung doctor kindly, and he returnedthe look with one of frank affection.

"Your mother must have had a sight ofcomfort with you," said Miss Vesta."You are a home boy, any one can seethat."

"I know when I am well off!" said theyoung doctor.

Geoffrey Strong certainly was well off.In some singular way, which no oneprofessed wholly to understand, he hadwon the confidence of both the "Blythgirls," who were usually considered themost exclusive and "stand-offish"people in Elmerton. He made no secretof being in love with Miss Vesta. Hedeclared that no one could see her

without being in love with her."Because you are so lovely, you know!"he said to her half a dozen times a day.The remark never failed to call up a softblush, and a gentle "Don't, I pray you,my dear young friend; you shock me!"

"But I like to shock you," the youngdoctor would reply. "You look prettiestwhen you are shocked." And then MissVesta would shake her pretty whitecurls (she was not more than sixty, buther hair had been gray since her youth),and say that if he went on so she mustreally call Sister Phoebe; and MasterGeoffrey would go off laughing.

He did not make love to Miss Phoebe,

but was none the less intimate with herin frank comradeship. Rheumatism wastheir first bond. Doctor Strong meantto make rather a specialty ofrheumatism and kindred complaints,and studied Miss Phoebe's case withardour. Every new symptom wasreceived with kindling eye and eagerquestionings. It was worst in her backthis morning So! now how would shedescribe the pain Was it acute, darting,piercing No Dull, then! Would she callit grinding, boring, pressing Ah! thatwas most interesting. And for othersymptoms yes! yes! that naturallyfollowed; he should have expected that.

"In fact, Miss Blyth, you really are a

magnificent case!" and the youngdoctor glowed with enthusiasm. (Thiswas when he first came to live in theTemple of Vesta.) "I mean to relieveyour suffering; I'll put every inch thereis of me into it. But, meantime, thereought to be some consolation in theknowledge that you are a mostbeautiful and interesting case."

What woman, I will go farther, whathuman being could withstand this MissPhoebe was a firm woman, but she wasclay in the hands of the young doctor,the more so that he certainly did helpher rheumatism wonderfully.

More than this, their views ran together

in other directions. Both disapprovedof matrimony, not in the abstract, butin the concrete and personal view. Theyhad long talks together on the subject,after Miss Vesta had gone to bed,sitting in the quaint parlour, whichboth considered the pleasantest roomin the world. The young doctor, tongsin hand (he was allowed to pick up thebrands and to poke the fire, a fire onlyless sacred than that of Miss Vesta'slamp), would hold forth at length, tothe great edification of Miss Phoebe, asshe sat by her little work-table knittingcomplacently.

"It's all right for most men," he wouldsay. "It steadies them, and does them

good in a hundred ways. Oh, yes, Iapprove highly of marriage, as I amsure you do, Miss Blyth; but not for aphysician, at least a young physician. Ayoung physician must be able to givehis whole thought, his whole being, soto speak, to his profession. There's toomuch of it for him to divide himselfup. Why, take a single specialty; takerheumatism. If I gave my lifetime, ortwenty lifetimes, to the study of thatone malady, I should not begin to learnthe A B C of it."

"One learns a good deal when one hasit!" said poor Miss Phoebe.

"Yes, of course, and I am speaking the

simple truth when I say that I wish Icould have it for you, Miss Blyth. Ishould have it would be mostinstructive, most illuminating. Someday we shall have all that regulated, andmedical students will go throughcourses of disease as well as of study. Ilook forward to that, though it willhardly come in my time. Rheumatismand kindred diseases, say two terms;fever, two terms no, three, for youwould want to take in yellow andtyphus, as well as ordinary typhoid.Cholera well, of course there would bedifficulties, but you see the principle.Well, but we were talking aboutmarriage. Now, you see, with all thesenew worlds opening before him, the

physician cannot possibly be thinkingof falling in love "

Miss Phoebe blinked, and colouredslightly. She sometimes wished DoctorStrong would not use such forciblelanguage.

"Of falling in love and marrying. Incommon justice to his wife, he has nobusiness to marry her; I mean, ofcourse, the person who might be hiswife. Up all night, driving about thecountry all day, no woman ought to beasked to share such a life. In fact, theone reason that might justify aphysician in marrying and I admit itmight be a powerful one would be

where it afforded special facilities forthe study of disease. An obscure andcomplicated case of neurasthenia, now,but these things are hardly practicable;besides, a man would have to be aMormon. No, no, let lawyers marryyoung; business men, parsons,especially parsons, because they needfilling out as a rule, but not doctors."

The young doctor paused, and gave hiswhole vigorous mind to the fire for amoment. It was in a precariouscondition, and the brands had to bebuilt up in careful and precise fashion,with red coals tucked in neatly here andthere. Then he took the bellows inhand, and blew steadily and critically,

with keen eyes bent on the smoulderingbrands. A few seconds of breathlesswaiting, and a jet of yellow flamesprang up, faltered, died out, sprang upagain, and crept flickering in and outamong the brands powdered whitewith ashes. Now it was a strong, leapingflame, and all the room shone out in itslight; the ancient Turkey carpet, with itssoft blending of every colour into aharmonious no-colour; the quaintportraits, like court-cards in tarnishedgilt frames; the teak-wood chairs andsofas, with their delicate spindle-legs,and backs inlaid with sandalwood; MissPhoebe's work-table, with its bag offaded crimson damask, and MissPhoebe herself, pleasant to look upon

in her dove-coloured cashmere gown,with her kerchief of soft net.

The young doctor, glancing around,saw all these things in the light of hisnewly-resuscitated fire; and seeing, gavea little sigh of comfort, and layingdown the bellows, leaned back in hischair again.

"You were going to say something,Miss Blyth " he said, in his eager way."Please go on! I had to save the fire,don't you know it was on its last legscoals, I should say. Please go on, won'tyou "

Miss Phoebe coughed. She had beenbrought up not to use the word "leg"freely; "limb" had been consideredmore elegant, as well as but medicalmen, no doubt, took a broader view ofthese matters.

"I was merely about to remark," shesaid, with dignity, "that in many waysmy views on this subject coincide withyours, Doctor Strong. I have the highestrespect for a matrimony; it is a holyestate, and the daughter of myhonoured parents could ill afford tothink lightly of it; yet in a great manycases I own it appears to me a sad wasteof time and energy. I have noted in my

reading, both secular and religious, thatthough the married state is called holy,the term 'blessed' is reserved for a singlelife. Women of clinging nature, orthose with few interests, doubtless dowell to marry, a suitable partner beingprovided; but for a person with the fulluse of her faculties, and with rationaloccupation more than sufficient to fillher time, I admit I am unable toconceive the attraction of it. I speak formyself; my sister Vesta has other views.My sister Vesta had a disappointment inearly life. From my point of view, shewould have been far better off withoutthe unfortunate attachment whichthough to a very worthy personterminated so sadly. But my sister is not

of my opinion. She has a clinging,affectionate nature, my sister Vesta."

"She's an angel!" said Doctor Strong.

"You are right, my friend, you are veryright!" said Miss Phoebe; and her capstrings trembled with affection. "Thereis an angelic quality, surely, in my sisterVesta. She might have been happy Itrust she would have been ifProvidence had been pleased to call herto the married estate. But for me,Doctor Strong, no! I have always said,and I shall always say, while I have theuse of my faculties no! I thank you forthe honour you do me; I appreciate thesentiments to which you have given

utterance; but I can never be yours."

To any third party who had seen MissPhoebe, drawn up erect in her chair,uttering these words with chiselledmajesty, and Doctor Strong, bellows inhand, his bright eyes fixed upon her,receiving them with kindling attention,it might certainly have appeared as if hehad been making her an offer ofmarriage; but the thought would havebeen momentary, for when the goodlady ceased, the young doctor chimedin heartily:

"Quite right! quite right, I'm sure, MissBlyth. He'd be absurd to think of sucha thing, you know; the idea of your

wasting your time! That's what I say tofellows; 'How can you waste your time,when you'll be dead before you know itanyhow, and not have had time to lookabout you, much less learn anything 'No, sir, I beg your pardon, ma'am! Asingle life for me. My own time, myown will, and my own way!"

Miss Phoebe looked at him with verykind eyes.

"Doctor Strong," she said, "I think it isno light thing for me to say, holding theconvictions I do but I think you areworthy of single blessedness!"

CHAPTER III.

GARDEN FANCIES

Miss Vesta was trimming her lamp.That meant, in this early summerseason, that it was after seven o'clock.The little lady stood at the window inthe upper hall. It was a broad window,with a low round arch, looking out onthe garden and the sea beyond it. Abracket was fastened to the sill, and onthis bracket stood the lamp that MissVesta was trimming. (It was against allfitness, as Miss Phoebe said, that a lampshould be trimmed at this hour. Everyother lamp in the house was in perfect

order by nine o'clock in the morning;but it was Miss Vesta's fancy to trimthis lamp in the evening, and MissPhoebe made a point of indulging hersister's fancies when sheconscientiously could.)

It was a brass lamp of quaint pattern,and the brass shone so that several MissVestas, with faces curiously distorted,looked out at the real one, as shedaintily brushed off the burnt wicking,and, after filling and lighting the lamp,replaced the brilliantly polishedchimney. She watched the flame as itcrept along the wick; then, when itburned steady and clear, she folded herhands with a little contented gesture,

and looked out of the window.

The sun had set. The sea on whichMiss Vesta looked was a water of gold,shimmering here and there into opal;only where it broke on the shingle atthe garden foot, the water was its usualcolour of a chrysophrase, with a rim ofivory where it touched the shore. Thewindow was open, and a light breezeblew from the water; blew across thegarden, and brought with it scents oflilac, syringa, and June roses. It was apleasant hour, and Miss Vesta was wellcontent. She liked even better the laterevening, when the glow would fadefrom the west, and her lamp wouldshed its own path of gold across the

water; but this was pleasant enough.

"It is a very sightly evening!" said MissVesta, in the soft half-voice in whichshe often talked to herself. "GoodLord, I beseech thee, protect all souls atsea this night; for Jesus Christ's sake;amen!"

This was the prayer that Miss Vesta hadoffered every evening for thirty years.As often as she repeated it, the seabefore her eyes changed, and she saw astretch of black tossing water, withfoam-crests that the lightning turned topale fire; a sail drove across herwindow, dipped, and disappeared. MissVesta closed her eyes.

But as the old doctor said, people donot mourn for thirty years; when sheopened her eyes, they were grave, butserene. "It is a very sightly evening!" sherepeated. She leaned out of thewindow, and drew in long breaths ofsweetness. Presently the sweetness wascrossed by a whiff of a differentfragrance, pungent, aromatic, thefragrance of tobacco. Doctor Strongwas smoking his evening cigar in thegarden. He would not have thought ofsmoking in the house, even if MissPhoebe would have allowed it; hesmoked as he rode on his morninground, and he took his evening cigar, asnow, in the garden. Miss Vesta saw him

now, in the growing dusk, striding upand down; not hastily, but with energyand determination in every stride. Hereyes dwelt upon him affectionately; shehad grown very fond of him. It wasdelightful to her to have this young,vigorous creature in the house, fairlyelectric with life and joy and strength;she felt younger every time she sawhim. He was good to look at, too,though no one would have called him abeauty. Tall and well-made, his headproperly set on shoulders that wereperhaps the least bit too square; his fairhair cropped close, in hope ofdestroying the curl that would stillcreep into it in spite of him; his hazeleyes as bright as eyes could be, his skin

healthy red and brown, yes, the youngdoctor was good to look at. So MissVesta thought. There was a little look,too it could hardly be called aresemblance yet he reminded hersomehow Miss Vesta's face changedfrom a white to a pink rose, and shesaid, softly, "If I had had a son, hemight have looked like this. The Lordbe with him and give him grace!"

As Miss Vesta watched him, GeoffreyStrong stopped to examine somethingin one of the borders; stooped, handson knees, and scrutinised a certainplant; then, glancing upward as hestraightened himself, saw Miss Vesta atthe window looking down at him.

"Hurrah!" he cried. "Come down, MissVesta, won't you, please you are the veryperson I want. I want to show yousomething."

"Surely!" said Miss Vesta. "I will bewith you in a moment, Doctor Strong;only let me get a head-covering frommy room."

When she had left the window,Geoffrey was almost sorry he hadcalled her; she made such a prettypicture standing there, framed in thebroad window, the evening light fallingsoftly on her soft face and silver hair. Itwas so nice of her to wear white in the

evening! Why didn't old ladies alwayswear white when they were pretty, headded, reflecting that Miss Phoebe inwhite would be an alarming vision. Hismind still on Miss Vesta, he quotedhalf aloud:

"A still, sweet, placid, moonlight face,And slightly nonchalant, Which seemsto hold a middle place Between one'slove and aunt."

"I wish you were my aunt!" heexclaimed, abruptly, when Miss Vestaappeared a few minutes later, with ascreen of delicate white wool over herhead and shoulders.

"Is that what you wished to say to me "asked Miss Vesta, somewhatbewildered.

"No! oh, no! I was only thinking what aperfect aunt you would make. No, Iwanted to show you something; a lineout of Browning, illustrated in life; oneof my favourite lines. See here, MissVesta!"

Miss Vesta looked.

"I see nothing," she began. "Oh, yes, amiller! Is that it, Doctor Strong Quite acurious miller. The study of insect lifeis no doubt "

"A moth! don't you see " cried theyoung doctor. "On the phlox, the whitephlox."

"'And here she paused in her gracioustalk To point me a moth on the milk-white phlox.'"

"Don't you remember, in the 'GardenFancies '"

But Miss Vesta did not remember.

Didn't she know Browning

She confessed that she did not. She hadfancied that he was not quite she hardlythought that ladies did read his works

to any extent. "Cowper was myfavourite poet in my youth," she said,"and I was very fond of Mrs. Hemansand Mrs. Barbauld. Their poetry is atonce elegant and elevated in tone andspirit. I hope you agree with me,Doctor Strong "

"I don't know!" said Geoffrey, "I neverread 'em. But Shelley, Miss Vesta! youlove Shelley, I'm sure He would haveloved you so, you know."

Miss Vesta's quiet face showed a littletrouble. "Mr. Shelley's poetry," she said,hesitatingly, "is very beautiful. He wassome one I once knew was devoted toMr. Shelley's poetry. He used to read it

to me. But Sister Phoebe thought Mr.Shelley's religious views were a notwhat one would wish, and she objectedto my following the study."

"He wrote about moths, too," saidGeoffrey, abstractedly. "The desire ofthe moth for the star, you know. Thosethings make you feel queer when theycome to you out here, with all theselights and dusks and smells. Now Iwonder why!"

Miss Vesta looked at him kindly."Perhaps there is some tenderassociation," she said, gently, "such as isnatural at your age, my dear youngfriend."

"Not an association!" said Geoffrey,stoutly. "Never had one in my life. It'sonly in a general way. These things stirone up, somehow; it's a form of mentalintoxication. Do you think a man couldget drunk on sunset and phlox, MissVesta "

"Oh, I trust not, I trust not!" said MissVesta, hurriedly, and she made haste tochange the subject. She as well as hersister found the young doctor'sexpressions overstrong at times, yet sheloved the lad.

"The roses are at their sweetest now,"she said, leading the conversation gently

away from the too passionate whitephlox, on which the moth was stillwaving its wings drowsily. "This blackdamask is considered very fine, but Ilove the old-fashioned June roses best."

"'She loves you, noble roses, I know!'"said Geoffrey, who certainly was nothimself to-night. "This one is exactlylike you, Miss Vesta. Look at it; just thecolour of ivory with a little sunsetmixed in. Now you know what youlook like."

"Oh, hush, my dear young friend!" saidMiss Vesta. "You must not really, youknow talk in this way. But it is curiousthat you should have noticed that

particular rose; it it is the kind I used towear when I was young."

She looked up at the lamp in thewindow. Geoffrey's eyes followed hers.Involuntarily he laid his hand on hers."Dear Miss Vesta!" he said, and hisstrong, hearty voice could be verygentle. "Miss Blyth told me. Does it stillhurt, dear lady "

Miss Vesta's breath fluttered for amoment, but it was only a moment.Her soft white fingers, cool as rose-leaves, returned the pressure of hisaffectionately. "No, my my dear," shesaid. "It does not hurt now. There is nopain now, only memory; blessed,

blessed memory. He there is somethingyou remind me of him a little, DoctorGeoffrey."

They stood silent, the young man andthe old woman, hand in hand in thesoft evening. The splendour in the westdied out, and soft clouds of gray andpurple brooded like wings over the sea.The water deepened from gold toglimmering gray, from gray to deepbrown and blue. In one spot a faintglimmer trembled on the waves; thelight from Miss Vesta's lamp. The littlelady gazed at it long, then looked upinto the strong young face above her.

"He was your age!" she said, hurrying

the words out in a low murmur, hardlylouder than the night breeze in the talllilac-trees. "He was bright and strongand gay like you; his sun went downwhile it was yet day. The Lord took himinto his holy keeping. I wish I wish youall the joy I should have tried to givehim, Doctor Geoffrey. I wish your lifefortunate and brave, and your lovehappy; more than all, your love happy."

She pressed his hand, and went quietlyaway; came back for a moment to pathis arm and say she trusted she had notdistressed him, and beg him not to stayout too long in the night air; then wentinto the house, closing the door softlyafter her.

Left alone, Geoffrey Strong fell to hispacing again, up and down the neatgravel paths with their tall box hedges.His face was very tender; looking at it,one might know he had been a lovingson to his mother. But presently hefrowned over his cigar, and thenlaughed, and went and shook theunoffending moth (it was a rare one, ifhe had been thinking of that kind ofthing) off the phlox.

"All the more reason, Stupid!" he saidto the moth, as it flew away. "A mangoes and gets a girl to care for him, andthen he goes and plays some fool tricklike as not this chap had his sheet tied

and leaves her alone the rest of her life.Just look at this sweet old angel, willyou it's a shame. No, sir, no woman inmine, thank you!"

He paced again. The moth fluttered offin the gloom; fluttered back, hovered,then settled once more on the milk-white phlox, which glimmered like afragrant ghost in the half-light. Theperfume rose from the flowers andmingled with the delicate scent of theroses and the heavier breath of lilacand syringa.

"'Where I find her not, beauties vanish;Whither I follow her, beauties flee. Isthere no method to tell her in Spanish"

"Oh, I must be drunk!" said DoctorGeoffrey. He tried another path. A newfragrance met him, the keen, clean,cruelly sweet smell of honeysuckle.Browning was gone with the phlox andthe roses; and what was this comingunbidden into his head, crisp and cleanand possessing, like the honeysuckle

"'Where e're she be, That notimpossible She Who shall commandmy life and me"

"I am drunk!" said Geoffrey Strong.And he threw away his cigar and wentto bed.

CHAPTER IV.

MOSTLY PROFESSIONAL.

"I fear Doctor Strong will be very muchput out!" said Miss Phoebe Blyth.

Miss Vesta sighed, and stirred hercoffee delicately. "It is unfortunate!" shesaid.

"Unfortunate! my dearest Vesta, it iscalamitous. Just when he is comfortablysettled in surroundings which he feelsto be congenial" Miss Phoebe bridled,and glanced round the pleasant dining-

room "to have these surroundingsinvaded by what he dislikes most in theworld, a girl, and a sick girl at that; I tellyou it would not surprise me if heshould give notice at once."

This was not quite true, for MissPhoebe would have been greatlysurprised at Doctor Strong's doinganything of the kind; but she enjoyedsaying it, and felt rather better after it.

"We could not possibly refuse, though,Sister Phoebe," said Miss Vesta, mildly."Little Vesta being my name-child, andBrother Nathaniel without faculty, asone may say, and it is certainly no placefor her at home."

"My dearest Vesta, I have not beenentirely deprived of my senses!" MissPhoebe spoke with some asperity. "Ofcourse we cannot refuse, and of coursewe must do our utmost for ourbrother's motherless child; but none theless, it is calamitous, I repeat; and I ampositive that Doctor Strong will begreatly annoyed."

At this moment Geoffrey came in, fullof apologies for his ten minutes'tardiness. The apologies were graciouslyreceived. The Miss Blyths would neverhave thought of such a thing as beinglate to breakfast themselves, but theywere not ill-pleased to have their lodger,

occasionally not too often sleep beyondthe usual hour. It showed that he felt athome, Miss Phoebe said, and MissVesta, the mother-instinct broodingover the lad she loved, thought heneeded all the sleep he could get, andmore.

"It's really disgraceful!" said the youngdoctor for the third time, as he drew hischair up to the table. "Yes, please, threelumps. There never was such coffee inthe world, Miss Blyth. I believe theSultan sends it to you from his ownprivate coffee-garden. Creamed chickenwon't I and muffins, and marmalade,what a blessing to be naturally greedy!More pain this morning, Miss Blyth I

hope not." His quick eye had seen thecloud on his hostess's brow, and he wasall attention and sympathy over hiscoffee-cup.

"I thank you, Doctor Strong; I feel littlepain this morning; in fact, I may almostsay none. But I we have been somewhatdisturbed by the contents of a letter wehave received."

"Bad news " cried Geoffrey. "I'm sosorry! Is there anything I can do, MissBlyth You will command me, ofcourse; send telegrams or "

"I thank you! You are always most kindand considerate, Doctor Strong. The

fact is" Miss Phoebe hesitated, castingabout in her mind for the best way ofbreaking the news, "the fact is, mybrother is a widower."

"Very sad, I'm sure!" murmuredGeoffrey Strong. "Was it sudden theseshocks are terribly trying. How did she"

"Oh no! you misapprehend me, DoctorStrong. Not sudden, nor nor what youwould call recent. It is some years sinceNathaniel's wife died."

"Old gentleman going to pass awayhimself " said Geoffrey, but not aloud;he was aware of his tendency to

headlong plunges; it was manifestlybetter to wait further explanations andnot commit himself.

"My brother has an only daughter,"Miss Phoebe went on, "a girl of twenty.She has been at college (I stronglydisapproved of her going, but the childis headstrong), and has worked beyondher strength. She that is, her father, isanxious for her to come and pass amonth or two with us; he thinks the seaair will benefit her."

"No doubt it will!" said Geoffrey, stillawaiting the catastrophe. It was a greatbore, of course, in fact a nuisance, butit couldn't be helped.

"This this is what has troubled us,Doctor Strong. We fear, my sister and I,that the presence of a young person ofthe other sex will be disturbing to you."

Miss Vesta looked up quickly, but saidnothing. Geoffrey looked bewilderedfor a moment, then laughed aloud,colouring like a schoolboy. "Why, MissBlyth, what must you think of me " hesaid. "I am not particularly given to tothe society of young ladies, but I amnot such a misogynist as all that."

Miss Phoebe did not know what amisogynist was, and did not like to ask;there were so many dangerous and

levelling doctrines about, as her fatheralways said. Whatever it was, she washeartily glad that Doctor Strong did notbelieve in it.

"Vesta is a good child," said Miss Vesta."She makes no noise or trouble in thehouse, even when she is well. We shallof course see that your convenience isnot interfered with in any way, DoctorStrong."

"If you talk like that, I shall pack mytrunk and go to-morrow," saidGeoffrey, decidedly; "and I don't wantto go a bit. It's I who am likely to be inthe way, so far as I can see; but youwon't send me off just yet, will you "

When Geoffrey Strong smiled, peoplewere apt to do what he wished, unlessthey were ill-conditioned peopleindeed, and Miss Phoebe and MissVesta were far from ill-conditioned.

"I've never been so happy anywhere,"the young man went on in his eagerway, "since since my own home wasbroken up. I'd stay if you would let me,if there were twenty I I mean, ofcourse it will be delightful to may Ihave another muffin, please Thanks!"Geoffrey had broken short off, being aperson of absolute honesty.

"I trust your niece is not seriously out

of health," he said, in conclusion, withhis most professional air. "Is anymalady indicated, or merely overfatigue"

Miss Phoebe put on her spectacles andtook up the letter. "There is a word,"she said, "that I did not understand, Imust confess. If you will allow me,Doctor Strong, I will read you aportion of my brother's remarks. A yes!'Vesta seems very far from well. Shecries, and will not eat, and she lookslike a ghost. The doctor calls itneurasthenia.'"

Doctor Strong uttered an exclamation.Miss Phoebe looked up in dismay.

"It is nothing contagious, I trust,Doctor Strong "

"No! no! nothing of the kind. Go on,please! any more symptoms "

"I think not. She has no appetite, hesays, and does not sleep well. He saysnothing of any rash." Miss Phoebelooked anxiously at the young doctor.To her amazement, he was leaningforward, muffin in hand, his facewearing its brightest and most eagerlook.

"Is that all " he said. "Well of coursethat's not professional. Very likely the

physician there will send a writtendiagnosis if you ask him. You see, MissBlyth, this is very interesting to me. Iwant to make a study of nerves, that'sall the word means, disordered nerves,and it will be the greatest pleasure tome to try to be of service to your niece;if you should wish it, that is."

"Oh, Doctor Strong! you are too kind!"said both ladies in duet.

They were so relieved, they overflowedin little grateful courtesies. He musthave more cream; he was eatingnothing. They feared his egg was notquite was he positively sure it wouldsometimes happen, with the greatest

care, that eggs were not quite a littlescrap more bacon, then! or would hefancy some fresh cream cheese and soon and so on, till the young doctorcried out, and said that if he ate anymore he should not be able to mounthis bicycle, far less ride it.

"By the way," he added, "I didn't seeyou when I came in last night. I hope Ididn't disturb either of you. No That'sright; if I ever make a noise coming inlate, shoot me at sight, please. You tookthe powder, Miss Blyth and slept wellHurrah! Well, I was going to say, I hada rather amusing time at Shellback."

Shellback was a village some ten miles

off, whither he had been summonedthe evening before. Both ladiesbrightened up. They delighted to hearof the young doctor's experiences.

"I don't suppose you know," DoctorStrong went on, "no, you wouldn't belikely to, an old man named Butters,Ithuriel Butters Quaint name! suggests'Paradise Lost' and buns. Old ManButters they call him. Well, I went to seehim; and I got a lesson in therapeutics,and two recipes for curing rheumatism,beside. I think I must try one of themon you, Miss Blyth."

Miss Phoebe, who was literal, wasabout to assure him that she was amply

satisfied with the remedies already inuse; but he went on, in high enjoyment,evidently seeing almost with his bodilyvision the figures he conjured up.

"It seems the old gentleman didn't wantme sent for; in fact, the family had doneit on the sly, being alarmed at certainsymptoms new to them. I got out there,and found the old fellow sitting in hisarmchair, smoking his pipe; fine-looking old boy, white hair and beard,and all that. Looked me all over, andasked me what I wanted. Wife anddaughter kept out of the way, evidentlyscared at what they had done. I went inalone. I said I had come to see him.

"'All right,' says he. 'No extra charge!'and he shut his eyes, and smoked awayfor dear life. Presently he opened hiseyes, and looked at me again.

"'Like my looks ' he says.

"'Yes,' said I. I thought he might havereturned the compliment, but he didn't;he only grunted. I waited a bit, talkedof this and that; at last I said, 'How areyou feeling this evening, Mr. Butters '

"'First-rate!' said he. 'How be you '

"'I'm all right,' said I,' but I don't believeyou are, sir. You are not the right colourat all.'

"'What colour be I not green, Icalc'late!' Then we both laughed, andfelt better. I asked if I might smoke,too, and took out my pipe. Pretty soonthe old fellow began to talk.

"'My women-folks sent for you, didthey I suspicioned they had. Fact, I wasslim this mornin'; took slim suddin,whilest I was milkin'. Didn't relish myvictuals, and that scairt the woman. ButI took my physic, and, come afternoon,I was spryer 'n a steer agin.'

"'What is your physic, if I may ask, Mr.Butters '

"'Woodpile!' says the old fellow.

"'Woodpile ' said I.

"'Cord o' wood. Axe. Sweat o' the brow.Them's the best physic I know of.'

"He smoked on for a bit, and I sat andlooked at him, admiring how the worldwas made. I don't know whether youread Kipling, Miss Vesta. I wasrewarded for my patience.

"'Young feller,' said the old man, afterawhile, 'how old do you s'pose I be '

"'Seventy,' said I; and he looked it, not aday over.

"'Add fifteen to that,' says he, 'and youhave it. Eighty-five year last Jenooary.You are under thirty, I reckon Thoughtso! Well, I was gettin' on for sixty yearold when you was born. See '

"I did see, but I wasn't going to give inyet. 'Did you ever study medicine, Mr.Butters ' I said.

"'Study medicine No, sir! but I've livedwith my own bones and insides till Iknow 'em consid'able well; and I'veseen consid'able of folks, them asdoctored and them as didn't. My wivesdoctored, all three of 'em. I buried twoof 'em, and good ones, too; and, like as

not, I'll bury the third. She ain't nonetoo rugged this summer, though sheain't but seventy. But, what I say is, startwell, and stay well, and don't werry.You tell your patients that, and fustthing you know you won't have any.'"

"A singularly ignorant person, this Mr.Butters!" said Miss Phoebe.

"I don't know!" said the young doctor."I'm not so sure about that. I know itwould be a bad thing for the medicalprofession if his ideas were generallytaken up. Well, he went on over hispipe. I wish you could have seen him,Miss Vesta. He looked like a veritablepatriarch come to life. Fancy Abraham

with a T.D. pipe, and you have IthurielButters. Awfully sad for those poor oldduffers not to have tobacco. I beg yourpardon, Miss Blyth.

"'Yes,' said the old fellow. 'I've seenfolks as doctored, and I've seen folks asfooled.'

"'Fooled ' said I.

"'Notions; fool's tricks; idees! Take mybrother Reuel. He used to haverheumatiz; had it bad. One day therewas a thunder-storm, and he was outgettin' in his hay, and was struck bylightnin'. Fluid run along the rake andspit in his face, he used to say. He lost

the use of his eyes and hands for sixmonths, but he never had rheumatizagain for twenty years. Swore it was theelectricity; said he swallered it, and itgot into his system and cured him.What do you say to that, young feller '

"'It's an experiment I never tried,' said I.'I'm not going to commit myself, Mr.Butters. But that's a good story.'

"'Hold on!' said he; 'that ain't all. 'Bouttwenty-five years after that Reuel wasgettin' on by that time he was outfishin', and a squall come up andswamped his boat. He was in the waterquite a spell, and come next day he wasall doubled up with rheumatiz. He was

the maddest man you ever see. Hewouldn't do a thing, only sit hunchedup in his chair and ask about theweather. It was summer-time, and goodhayin' weather as a rule. Bumbye comea fryin' hot day, and sure enough wehad a thunder-storm in the afternoon.When it was bangin' away good andsolid, Reuel hitched himself out of hischair, took an iron rake in one handand a hoe in the other, crep' out of thehouse, and went and sat down under atree in the middle of the pasture. Wifetried to stop him, but she might as wellhave tried to stop the lightnin'. Well, sir,the tree was struck, and Reuel neverhad no more rheumatiz. Couldn't tellwhich was tree and which was him.

That comes of havin' idees.'"

"Dear me!" said Miss Vesta. "What apainful story! His poor wife!"

"Such impious ignorance I think Inever heard of!" said Miss Phoebe,rigidly. "I should think the a family amost unprofitable one for you to visit,Doctor Strong."

"But so consistent!" said Geoffrey."Knowing their own minds, andcarrying out their own theories ofhygiene. It's very refreshing, I mustadmit. But" Geoffrey saw that hishostesses were not amused, noranything but pained and shocked "this

is enough about Ithuriel Butters, isn't itWe decided that he would better take alittle something dark-coloured, with agood solid smell to it, to please his'women-folks;' he'll go out some daylike the snuff of a candle, and heknows it. But you don't want to try thelightning cure, do you, Miss Blyth "

"I most certainly do not!" said MissPhoebe, concisely; and she reflectedthat even the best and most intelligentof men might often be lacking indelicate perception.

CHAPTER V.

LETTER-WRITING ANDHYSTERICS

The young doctor sat in his roomwriting. It was a pleasant room, lookingupon the garden, and in style andfurnishing altogether to the youngdoctor's taste. He liked the tall narrowmantel, with its delicate mouldings; heliked the white paint, and the highwainscoting against which, the oldmahogany came out so well; and heliked the mahogany itself, which was inquaint and graceful shapes. The dimitycurtains, too, with their ball and tasselfringe, were of such a fresh clear white.They had never been dirty, they never

could be dirty, the young doctorthought; some things must always befresh and clean; like that girl's dresses.He was sitting in his favourite chair; achair that stimulated to effort or wooedto repose, according to the attitude oneassumed in it. Geoffrey Strong felt asort of ownership in this chair, for hehad discovered the secret pocket in onearm; the tiny panel which, whenpressed one day by his careless fingers,slipped aside, revealing a dark polishedwell, and in the well an ancientvinaigrette of green and gold glass.Sometimes Geoffrey would take out thevinaigrette and sniff its faded perfume,and it told him a new story every time.Now, however, it lay quiet in its nest,

for Geoffrey was writing busily.

"You can't laugh any more at me andmy old ladies, Jim. There's a newdevelopment, a young lady; niece,visitor here, and invalid visitor at that.Neurasthenia, overwork at college, theold story. When will young womenlearn that they are not young menMalady in this case takes the form ofaversion to the male sex in general, andG. S. in particular. Handsome, sullencreature, tawny hair, eyes no particularcolour, but very brilliant; pupils muchdilated. I won't bother you withsymptoms while you are off on yourvacation, but she has some interestingones. The dear old ladies want me to

prescribe for her, but she prefers to playwith pills herself. Has a remarkablevoice, deep notes now and again thatthrill like the middle tones of a 'cello;or might, if they said anything but'Please pass the butter!' If she werebetter tempered, I should be tempted tosend for you; you are simply spoilingfor some one to fall in love with, I cantell that from your last letter. The prettybrunette had not intellectuality enough,had she My dear fellow, as if that hadanything to do with it! You were notready, that was all. You fall in love byclockwork once every year; and it istime now. If you should see the P. B.again to-morrow, you'd be lost directly.As for me I should think you would be

tired of asking. No, I am not in love.No, I feel no inclination whatever tobecome so. No, there is no 'charmer'(what vile expressions you use, James;go back to the English Department,and learn how to speak of Woman!)who interests me in the least (exceptpathologically, of course), except MissVesta Blyth, aged sixty. I am in lovewith her, I grant you; anybody wouldbe, with eyes in his head. Don't I knowthat I would amount to twice as muchif the society of women formed partof my life Numskull, it does form partof it, a very important part. In the firstplace, I have my patients. Body of me,my patients! Did I not sit a strickenhour with Mrs. Abigail Plummer

yesterday afternoon She 'feels acrawling in her pipes,' I'll spare youMrs. Plummer, but you must hear howMrs. Cotton cured her lumbago. (I amstill hunting rheumatic affections, yes,and always shall be.) She took a quartof rum, my Christian friend; she putinto it a pound and a half of sulphurand three-quarters of a pound ofcream tartar, and took 'a good swaller'three or four times a day. There'stherapeutics for you, sir! Lady weighsthree hundred pounds if she does anounce, and has a colour like a baby's.Well, I could go on indefinitely. That'sin the first place. In the second, I havehere in this house society that isabsolutely to my mind. Experience is

life, you grant that. Therefore, theperson of experience is the person whoreally lives. (Of course I admitexceptions.) Therefore, the society of awoman of sixty an intelligent woman isinfinitely more to be desired than thatof a callow girl with nothing but eyesand theories. It is profitable, it isdelightful; and this with no hurrying ofthe heart, no upsetting of the nerves,none of the deplorable symptoms thatI observe annually in my friend Mr.James Swift. That for the second place.There is a third. Jim, Jim, do you forgetthat I was brought up with 'six femalecousins, and all of them girls ' Theywere virtuous young women, every oneof them; one or two were good

looking; four of them (including theplainest), have married, and I trust theirhusbands find them interesting. I didnot, but I 'learned about women fromthem,' as the lynx-eyed schoolboy doeslearn. I divided them into three classes,sugary, vinegary, peppery; to-day Ishould be more professional; let us saysaccharine, acidulated, irritant. Theseclasses still seem to me to include thegreater part of young womankind.Sorry to displease, but sich am de facts.And yes, I still sing 'aber hierathen ist niemein Sinn!' Business oh, so so! Acountry doctor doesn't make a fortune,but he learns a power, if he isn't anidiot. Now here is enough about me, inall conscience. When you write, tell me

about yourself, and what the otherfellows are doing. After all, that is "

Geoffrey came to the end of his paper,and paused to take a fresh sheet.Glancing up as he did so, he alsoglanced out of the window, to see whatwas going on in the garden. He alwaysliked to keep in touch with the garden,and was on intimate terms with everybird and blossom in it. It was neitherbird nor blossom that his eyes lightedon now. A young girl stood on thegravel-path, near his favourite syringaarbour. A hammock hung over her arm,and she carried a book and a pillow.She was looking about her, evidentlytrying to select a place to hang her

hammock. Geoffrey considered her.She was dressed in clear white; her hair,of a tawny reddish yellow, hung in oneheavy braid over her shoulder.

"Oh, yes, she is handsome," saidGeoffrey, addressing the syringa-bush."I never said she wasn't handsome. Thequestion is, would she like me to hangthat hammock for her, or would sheconsider it none of my business "

At this moment the girl dropped thebook; then the pillow slipped from herhands. She threw down the hammockwith a petulant gesture and stoodlooking at the syringa-bush as if it wereher mortal enemy. Geoffrey Strong laid

down his pen.

A few minutes later he came saunteringleisurely around the corner. One wouldhave said he had been spending anhour in the garden, and was now goingin.

"Good morning, Miss Blyth! gloriousday, isn't it going to sling a hammocklet me do it, won't you "

Vesta Blyth looked at him with sombreeyes. "I couldn't hold it!" she said,unwillingly. "There is no strength left inmy hands."

"You are still tired, you see," said

Geoffrey, cheerfully, as he picked up thehammock. "That's perfectly natural."

"It isn't natural!" said the girl, fiercely."It's devilish!"

"This is a good place," said Geoffrey,paying no attention to her."Combination of shade and sun, yousee. Pillow at this end There! how isthat "

"Thank you! it will do very well."

She stretched herself at full length inthe hammock. Her movements wereperfectly graceful, he noted; and hemade a swift comparison with the way

his cousins flounced or twittered orslumped into a hammock.

He stood looking at her, his hand stillon the hammock-rope. He wasconscious only of a friendly feeling ofcompassion for this fair young creature,built for vigour and an active life, nowcondemned for months, it might beyears, of weariness and pain. Whetherany unconscious keenness of scrutinycrept into his eyes or not, is not known;but as Vesta Blyth looked up and mettheir gaze, a wave of angry crimsonrushed over her face and neck.

"Doctor Strong," she said, violently, hervoice low and vibrating, as somewomen's are in passion, "I must requestyou not to look at me!"

Geoffrey started, and coloured in histurn. "I beg your pardon!" he said. "Iwas not aware I assure you I had nointention of being rude, Miss Blyth."

"You were not rude!" Vesta swept on."I am rude; I am unreasonable, I amabsurd. I can't help it. I will not belooked at professionally. Half thepeople in this village would welcomeyour professional glance as a beamfrom heaven, and bask in it, and dropevery symptom as if it were a pearl, but

I am not a 'case.' I am simply a humanbeing, who asks nothing but to be letalone."

She stopped abruptly, her bosomheaving, her eyes like black agates withfire behind them, looking straight pasthim at the trees beyond. "If you wishto put me to the last humiliation," sheadded, hurriedly, "you may wait andhave the satisfaction of seeing me cry;if not "

But Geoffrey was gone, fleeing into thehouse with the sound of stormy sobschasing him like Furies. He neverstopped till he reached his own room,where he flung himself into his chair in

most unprofessional agitation. Thewindow was open what a fool he wasto leave windows open! and the soundfollowed him; he could not shut it out.Dreadful sobs, choking, agonising; hefelt, as if he saw it, the whole slenderfigure convulsed with them. Goodheavens! the girl would be inconvulsions if she went on at this rate.

Now the sobs died away into longmoans, into quivering breaths; nowthey broke out again, insistent, terrible.Broken words among them, too.

"What shall I do Oh, dear! oh, dear!what shall I do "

Geoffrey, who had been trying to lookover some papers, started up and pacedthe room hurriedly. "This this is verycurious!" he was trying to say tohimself. "Hysteria pure and simple veryinteresting I must note the duration ofthe paroxysms. Good God! can'tsomebody stop her perfectly inhuman,to let a creature go on like that!"

He was at the door, with some vagueidea of alarming the house, when a softknock was heard on the other side. Heflung the door open, and startled MissVesta so that she gave a little cry ofdismay, and retreated to the head of thestairs. "Pray excuse me, Doctor Strong,"she said. "I see that you are occupied; I

pray you to excuse me!"

"No, no!" said Geoffrey, hurriedly. "Iam not it's nothing at all. What can I dofor you, Miss Vesta Do come in,please!"

"My niece," said the little lady, with atroubled look, "is in a highly nervouscondition to-day, Doctor Strong. She isweeping. My sister thought you mighthave " she paused, as Miss Phoebe'scrisp and decided tones came up overthe stairs.

"Little Vesta has got into a crying-spell,Doctor Strong. I want a little valerianfor her, please. I will go down and give

it to her myself, if you will hand it tomy sister."

"In one moment, Miss Blyth," calledGeoffrey, in his most composed andprofessional tones. Then, seizing MissVesta's hand, he almost dragged herinto the room, and shut the door.

"Don't let her go!" he said, hurriedly, ashe sought and poured out the valerian."Take it yourself, please, Miss Vesta,please! Miss Blyth will that is, she is lessgentle than you; if your niece is in sucha condition as as you say, you are theone to soothe her. Will you go Pleasedo."

"Dear Doctor Strong," said Miss Vesta,panting a little, "are you I fear you areunwell yourself. You alarm me, my dearyoung friend."

"I am a brute," said Geoffrey; "aclumsy, unfeeling brute!" He kissed herlittle white wrinkled hand; then, stillholding it, paused to listen. The voicecame up again from the place oftorture.

"What shall I do Oh, dear! oh, dear!what shall I do "

He pressed the glass in Miss Vesta'shand. "There! there! a teaspoonful atonce, please; but you will be better than

medicine. Tell Miss Blyth tell her I wantvery much to speak to her, please! Askif she could come up here now, thismoment, just for two or three minutes.And you'll go down yourself, won'tyou, Miss Vesta dear Miss Vesta "

He was so absorbed in listening he didnot hear the creaking of Miss Phoebe'smorocco shoes on the stairs; and whenshe appeared before him, flushed andslightly out of breath, he stared at thegood lady as if he had never seen herbefore.

"You wished to see me, Doctor Strong" Miss Phoebe began. She was halfpleased, half ruffled, at being

summoned in this imperious way.

"Yes oh, yes," answered Geoffrey,vaguely. "Come in, please, Miss Blyth.Won't you sit down no, I wouldn't sitnear the window, it's damp to-day (itwas not in the least damp). Sit here, inmy chair. Did you know there was asecret pocket in this chair Very curiousthing!"

"I was aware of it," said Miss Phoebe,with dignity. "Was that what youwished to say to me, Doctor Strong "

"No oh, no (thank Heaven, she hasstopped! that angel is with her). I I amashamed to trouble you, Miss Blyth,

but you said you would be so verygood as to look over my shirts someday, and see if they are worth puttingon new collars and cuffs. It's really animposition; any time will do, if you arebusy now. I only thought, hearing yourvoice "

"There is no time like the present," saidMiss Phoebe, in her most gracioustone. "It will be a pleasure, I assure you,Doctor Strong, to look over anyportions of your wardrobe, and giveyou such advice as I can. I always mademy honoured father's shirts after mydear mother's death, so I am, perhaps,not wholly unfitted for this congenialtask. Ah, machine-made!"

"Beg pardon!" said Geoffrey, who hadbeen listening to something else.

"These shirts were made with the aidof the sewing-machine, I perceive,"said Miss Phoebe. "No oh, no, it isnothing unusual. Very few persons, Ibelieve, make shirts entirely by hand inthese days. I always set the samenumber of stitches in my father's shirts,five thousand and sixty. He always saidthat no machine larger than a cambricneedle should touch his linen."

"Then you don't think they are worthnew collars " said Geoffrey,abstractedly.

"Did I convey that impression " saidMiss Phoebe, with mild surprise. "I hadno such intention, Doctor Strong. Ithink that a skilful person, with someknowledge of needlework, could makethese garments (though machine-made)last some months yet. You see, DoctorStrong, if she takes this "

It was a neat and well-sustained littleoration that Miss Phoebe delivered,emphasising her remarks with the cuffof a shirt; but it was lost on GeoffreyStrong. He was listening to anothervoice that came quavering up from thegarden below, a sweet high voice, like awavering thread of silver. No more

sobs; and Miss Vesta was singing; thesweetest song, Geoffrey thought, thathe had ever heard.

CHAPTER VI.

INFORMATION

The next day and the next Geoffreyavoided the garden as if it were a hauntof cobras. The dining-room, too, was aplace of terror to him, and at each mealhe paused before entering the room,nerving himself for what he might haveto face. This was wholly unreasonable,he told himself repeatedly; it was

ridiculous; it was the young man wasnot one to spare himself it wasunprofessional.

"Oh, yes, I know all that," he replied;"but they shouldn't cry. There ought tobe a law against their crying."

Here it occurred to him that he hadseen his cousins cry many times, andhad never minded it; but that wasentirely different, he said.

However, he need not distress himself,it appeared; Vesta Blyth kept her roomfor several days. At first Geoffrey foundit easier not to speak of her; but thethird day he pounced on Miss Vesta

when she was filling her lamp, andstartled her so that she almost droppedher scissors.

"Excuse me, Miss Vesta," he said; "whatfunny scissors! I shouldn't think youcould cut anything with them. I wasgoing to ask how is your niece to-day Itrust the hysterical condition is passingaway "

Miss Vesta sighed. "Yes, DoctorStrong," she said. "Vesta is quiet again,oh, yes, very quiet, and sleeping better;we are very grateful for your interest inher."

A few professional questions and

answers followed. There were no acuteor alarming symptoms. There was littleto do for the girl, except to let her restand "come round;" she would recoverin time, but it might be a long time.Geoffrey felt somehow younger thanhe had; neurasthenia was a pretty wordon paper, but he did not feel so sureabout making a specialty of it.

Miss Vesta fluttered about her lamp; hebecame conscious that she wanted tosay something to him. She began withsundry little plaintive murmurings,which might have been addressed tohim or to the lamp.

"Pity! pity! yes, indeed. So bright and

young, so full of hope and joy, anddarkened so soon. Yes, indeed, verysad!"

Geoffrey helped her. "What is it, MissVesta " he asked, tenderly. "You aregoing to tell me something."

Miss Vesta looked around her timidly."Sister Phoebe did not wish me tomention it," she said, in a low tone."She thinks it indelicate. But you are sokind, Doctor Strong, and you are aphysician. Poor little Vesta has had adisappointment, a crueldisappointment."

Geoffrey murmured something, he

hardly knew what. The little ladyhurried on. "It is not that I have anysympathy with I never liked the objectnot at all, I assure you, Doctor Strong.But her heart was fixed, and she hadhad every reason to suppose herself ithas been a terrible blow to her.Renunciation in youth is a hard thing,my dear young friend, a very hardthing."

She pressed his hand, and hurried awaywith her scissors, giving one backwardlook to make sure that the lampshowed no aspect that did not shinewith the last touch of brilliancy.

Geoffrey Strong went down into the

garden he had not been there since theday of the sobbing and paced about,never thinking of the pipe in hispocket. He found himself talking tothe blue larkspur. "Beast!" was what hecalled this beautiful plant. "Dolt! ass!inhuman brute! If I had the kicking ofyou " here he recovered his silence;found pebbles to kick, and pursuedthem savagely up one path and downanother. A mental flash-light showedhim the ruffian who had wounded thisbright creature; had led her on to lovehim, and then either betrayed his brutalnature so that hers rose up in revolt, orjust as likely that kind of man woulddo anything gone off and left her. Hispicture revealed a smart-looking person

with black hair and a waxed moustache,and complexion of feminine red andwhite (Geoffrey called it beef and suet).

"The extraordinary thing is, whatwomen see in such a fellow!" he toldthe syringa. The syringa drooped, andlooked sympathetic. The hammock washanging there still poor little thing!Geoffrey did not mean the hammock.He stood looking at the place, andwinced as the sobs struck his ear again;memory's ear this time, but that washardly less keen. How terribly shegrieved! she must have cared for him;bang! went the pebbles again.

There was a rustle behind the syringa-

bush. Geoffrey looked up and sawVesta Blyth standing before him.

He could not run away. He must notlook at her professionally. Despairimparted to his countenance a look ofstony vacuity which sat oddly on it.

The girl looked at him, and it seemed asif the shadow of a smile looked out ofher shadowy eyes. "I thought you mightbe here, Doctor Strong," she said,quietly. "I am coming in to tea to-night.I am entirely myself again, I assure youand first I wished I want to apologiseto you for my absurd behaviour theother day."

"Please don't!" said Geoffrey.

"I must; I have to. I am weak, you see,and I lost hold of myself, that was all.It was purely hysterical, as you ofcourse saw. I have had a great trouble.Perhaps my aunts may have told you."

Good God! she wasn't going to talkabout it Geoffrey thought asubterranean dungeon would be apleasant place.

"I yes!" he admitted, feeling the redcurling around his ears. "Miss Vesta didsay something it's an infernal shame! Iwish I could tell you how sorry I am."

"Thank you!" said the girl; and a richnote thrilled in her voice. Yes itcertainly was like a 'cello. "I did notknow how you would you are verykind, Doctor Strong. Dear Aunt Vesta;she would try to make the best of it, Iknow. Aunt Phoebe will not speak ofit, she is too much shocked, but AuntVesta is angelic."

"Indeed she is!" said the young doctor,heartily. "And she is so pretty, too, andso soft and creamy; I never saw any onelike her."

There was a moment of dreadfulsilence. Geoffrey sought desperately fora subject of conversation, but the

frivolous spirit of tragedy refused tosuggest anything except boots, andwomen never understand boots.

The strange thing was, that the girl didnot appear to find the silence dreadful.She stood absently curling anduncurling a syringa-leaf between herlong white fingers. All the lines of herwere long, except the curl of her upperlip, and there was not an ungracefulone among them. Her face was quietlysad, but there was no sign of confusionin it. Good heavens! what were womenmade of

Presently she turned to him, and againthe shadow of a smile crept into her

eyes. "You don't ask whether I ambetter, Doctor Strong," she said; andthere was even a faint suggestion ofmischief in her voice.

"No!" said Geoffrey. "I shall never askyou that again."

The shadow turned to a spark. "Youmight help me!" she exclaimed. "Atleast you need not make it harder forme " she checked herself, and went onin a carefully even tone. "I am soashamed of myself!" she said. "Ithought when I came here that I hadquite got myself in hand; the other daytaught me a lesson. I was abominablyrude, and I beg your pardon."

She held out her hand frankly; Geoffreytook it, and was conscious that, thoughit was too cold, it had the same qualitythat Miss Vesta's hand had, a touch likerose-leaves, smooth and light and dry.She shook hands as if she meant it, too,instead of giving a limp flap, as somegirls did. It was impossible to tell thecolour of her eyes; but she wasspeaking again.

"And I want to say this, too. There isn'tanything to do for me, you know; Imust just wait. But I know how Ishould feel in your place; and if thereseem to be any interesting or unusualsymptoms, I will tell you if you like "

"Thank you!" said Geoffrey. "It wouldbe very good of you, I'm sure."

She turned to the syringa-bush again,and breaking off a spray, fastened it inher white gown. "You think ofstudying nerves, I believe " she said,presently. "As a specialty, I mean. Well,they are horrible things." She spokeabruptly, and as if half to herself. "Tothink of this network of treacheryspreading through and through us,lying in wait for us, leading us on,buoying us up with false strength, shamelasticity and then collapsing like a toyballoon, leaving nothing but a rag, atatter of humanity. Oh, it is shameful! it

is disgraceful! Look at me! whatbusiness have I with nerves "

She stretched out her long arms andthrew her head back. The gesture waspowerful; one saw that strength was thenatural order of life with this lithe,long-limbed creature. But the nextinstant she drooped together like a tiredlily.

"I know that is nonsense!" she said,moodily. "I know it just as well as youdo. I am tired; I think I'll go in now."

"Why not try the hammock " Geoffreysuggested. "The garden is better thanthe house to-day. Or do you like the

water My canoe came yesterday; whynot come out for a short paddle "

The girl looked at him doubtfully. "Idon't know!"

"Best thing in the world for you!" saidGeoffrey, who had fully recovered hisease, and felt benevolently professional."You ought to keep out-of-doors allyou can. I'll get some shawls and apillow."

Vesta looked longingly out at the water,then doubtfully again at the youngdoctor. "If you are sure " she said; "ifyou really have time, Doctor Strong.Your patients "

"Bother my patients!" said the youngdoctor.

An hour later, Miss Phoebe Blyth wasconfronting a flushed and pantingmatron at the front door.

"No, Mrs. Worrett, he has not come inyet. It is past his customary hour, buthe has been detained, no doubt, bysome urgent case. Doctor Strong neverspares himself. I fear for himsometimes, I must confess. Will youstep in and wait, or shall I colic oh! ifthat is all, it will hardly be necessary tosend the doctor out. I shall take theliberty of giving you a bottle of my

checkerberry cordial. I have made it forforty years, and Doctor Strongapproves of it highly. Give the babyhalf a teaspoonful in a wine-glass ofhot water, and repeat the dose in anhour if not relieved. Not at all, I beg ofyou, Mrs. Worrett. It is a pleasure to beable to relieve the babe, as well as tospare Doctor Strong a little. He comesin quite exhausted sometimes fromthese long trips. Good evening to you,ma'am."

CHAPTER VII.

FESTIVITY

The Ladies' Society was to meet at theTemple of Vesta; or, rather (since thatname for the brick house was knownonly to the old and the young doctor),at the Blyth Girls'. The sisters alwaysentertained the society once a year, andit was apt to be the favourite meetingof the season. It was the peacefulpastime of two weeks, for Miss Phoebeand Miss Vesta, to prepare for theannual festivity, by polishing the alreadyshining house to a hardly imaginablepoint of brilliant cleanliness. In thekitchen of the Temple, Diploma Grottyruled supreme, as she had ruled fortwenty years. Miss Phoebe wasoccasionally permitted to trifle with a

jelly or a cream, but even this was uponsufferance; while if Miss Vesta ever hadany culinary aspirations, they were putdown with a high hand, and aninjunction not to meddle with themthings, but see to her parlours and herchaney. This injunction, backed by herown spotless ideals, was faithfullycarried out by Miss Vesta. Miss Phoebe,by right of her position as elder sisterand martyr to rheumatism (though shesometimes forgot her martyrdom inthese days), took charge of the upperclass of preparation; examined the lacecurtains in search of a possible stitchdropped in the net, "did up" the frilledlinen bags that formed the decentclothing of the window-tassels, the

tidies, and the entire stock of "laces"owned by her and her sister. One couldnever be sure beforehand which collarone would want to wear when theevening came, and while one was aboutit, it was as well to do them all; so formany days the sewing-room wasadorned with solemn bottles swathedin white, on which collars, cuffs, andscarfs were delicately stitched. MissVesta cleaned.

For some days the young doctor hadbeen conscious of a stronger odourthan usual of beeswax and rosin. Also,the tiny room by the front door, whichwas sacred as his office, began to shinewith a kind of inward light. No one

was ever there when he came in, noone, that is, save the occasional patient,but he always found that his papers hadassembled themselves in orderly pileson the table where he was wont tothrow them; that the table itself hadbecome so glossy that things slippedabout or fell off whenever he movedthem; and that no matter where he lefthis pipes, he always found them rangedwith exact symmetry on the mantel-shelf. (If he could have known theaffectionate terror with which thosedelicate white old fingers touched thebrown, fragrant, masculine things!There were four of the pipes, Zuleika,Haidee, Nourmahal, and Scheherezade;the fellows used to call them his harem,

and him Haroun Alraschid.)

Geoffrey was always careful aboutwiping his feet when he came in; hewas a well-brought-up lad, and nevermeant to leave a speck on the polishedfloor. Now, however, he was aware offragrant, newly rubbed spots thatappeared as if by magic every time hereturned through the entry after passingalong it. Several times he saw a graygown flutter and disappear through adoorway; but it might have beenDiploma.

One day, however, it was the very dayof the party, he chanced to come intothe parlour for a match or the like, and

found Miss Vesta on her knees,apparently praying to one of the teak-wood chairs; and the girl Vesta, white aswax, standing beside another, rubbingit with even, practised strokes. Theyoung doctor looked from one to theother.

"What does this mean " he said. "Whatupon earth are you doing, you two "

Miss Vesta looked up, pink andbreathless.

"My dear Doctor Strong, I wish youwould use your professional influencewith Vesta. I am making a littlepreparation, as you see, for this evening.

It I take pleasure in it, and find theexercise beneficial. But Vesta is entirelyunfit for it, as I have repeatedly pointedout to her. She persists " the little ladypaused for breath. The young doctortook the cloth from the girl's hand, andopened the door.

"You would better go and lie down,Miss Blyth," he said, abruptly. "I'll seeto this " he said "tomfoolery," but notaloud.

The colour crept into Vesta's whitecheeks, the first he had seen there. "Idon't want to lie down, thank you!" shesaid, coldly. "Give me the cloth, please!"

Their eyes measured swords for aninstant. Then

"You can hardly stand now," saidGeoffrey, quietly. "If you faint I shallhave to carry you up-stairs, and that "

She was gone, but he still saw her facelike a white flame. He looked after her amoment, then turned to Miss Vesta,who was still on her knees. His look ofannoyance changed to one of distress."Dear Miss Vesta, will you please get upthis moment What can you be doingAre you praying to Saint Beeswax "

"Oh, no, Doctor Strong. We never theOrthodox Church but you are jesting,

my dear young friend. I a little healthfulexercise oh, please, Doctor Geoffrey!"

For two strong hands lifted her bodily,and set her down in her own particulararmchair. "Exercise is recommended forme," said the little lady, piteously. "Youyourself, Doctor Geoffrey, said I oughtto take more exercise."

"So you shall. You shall dance all theevening, if you like. I'll play the fiddle,and you and the minister no, no, I don'tmean the minister! Don't look like that!you and Deacon Weight shall dancetogether. It will be the elephant and thefl butterfly. But I am going to do this,Miss Vesta."

He in turn went down on his knees tothe teak-wood chair, and examined itcuriously. "Is this supposed to needcleaning " he asked; "or is it to be usedas a looking-glass Perhaps you had justfinished this one " He looked hopefullyat Miss Vesta, and saw her face cloudwith distress.

"I was about to polish it a little," shesaid. "It is already clean, in a measure,but a little extra polish on suchoccasions "

Geoffrey did not wait for more, butrubbed away with might and main,talking the while.

"You see, Miss Vesta, it is veryimportant for me to learn about thesethings. You and Miss Phoebe may turnme out some day, and then the lonelybachelor will have to set up his ownestablishment, and cook his owndinner, and polish his own chairs. Doyou think I could cook a dinner I'll tellyou what we'll do, some day; we'll sendDiploma off for a holiday, and I'll getthe dinner."

"Oh, my dear young friend, I fear thatwould not be possible. Diploma is soset in her ways! She will hardly let meset foot in the kitchen, but SisterPhoebe goes in whenever she pleases. I

I think that chair is as bright as it can be,Doctor Strong. I am greatly obliged toyou. It looks beautiful, and now I neednot trouble you further; you are muchoccupied, I am sure. Oh, pray pray giveme back the cloth, Doctor Geoffrey."

But Geoffrey declared he had not hadsuch fun for weeks. "Consider mybiceps," he said. "You ought toconsider my biceps, Miss Vesta."

He went from chair to chair, Miss Vestafollowing him with little plaintivemurmurs, in which distress andadmiration were equally blended; andrubbed, and rubbed again, till all theroom was full of dark glory. There was

one bad moment, when the weak leg ofthe three-cornered table threatened togive way under his vigorous attack, andprotested with a sharp squeak ofanguish; but though Geoffrey and MissVesta both examined it with searchingscrutiny, no new crack was visible. Heoffered to bandage the old crack,warranting to make the ailing leg thestrongest of the four; but, on thewhole, it did not seem necessary.

"If only Deacon Weight does not leanon it!" said Miss Vesta. "Perhaps youcould manage to stand near it yourself,Doctor Geoffrey, if you should see thedeacon approaching it. He is apt, whenengaged in conversation, to rest both

elbows on a table; it is a great strain onany furniture."

Geoffrey looked a little blank. "Wereyou expecting me to join the party " heasked; "I thought I should be rather inthe way, shouldn't I " He read hisanswer in the piteous startled look ofthe little lady, and hastened on beforeshe could speak. "I didn't suppose Iwas invited, Miss Vesta. Of course Ishall come, if I may, with the greatestpleasure."

"Dear Doctor Strong," said Miss Vesta,with a happy sigh, "it would have beensuch a sad blow if we must havedispensed with your society."

It would indeed have been a tragicdisappointment to both sisters if theirlodger had not appeared on the greatoccasion. As it was, Miss Vesta wasfluttered, and only restored to fullcomposure when, at tea, Doctor Strongbegged to know the exact hour atwhich the guests were expected, that hemight be ready on time.

The pride of the good ladies knew nobounds when Doctor Strong enteredthe parlour in faultless evening dress,with a tiny blush-rose, from MissVesta's favourite tree, in his buttonhole.Evening dress was becoming toGeoffrey. The Ladies' Society fluttered

at sight of him, and primmed itself, andshook out its skirts.

Geoffrey's face was radiant over hiswhite tie. He had planned a cozyevening in his own room, with a newtreatise on orthopaedics that had justcome; but no one would have thoughtthat he took delight in anything exceptSociety meetings. He went from groupto group, as if he were the son of thehouse, cheering the forlorn, lighteningthe heavy, smoothing down the prickly,a medical Father O'Flynn. But it wasthe elderly and the middle-aged that hesought out; the matrons whose childrenhe had tended, the spinsters whoseneuralgia he had relieved. The few

younger members of the Societybridled and simpered in vain; the youngdoctor never looked their way.

"Good evening, Mrs. Worrett; sorry Imissed you the other day; but MissBlyth prescribed for you, and she is asgood a doctor as I am, any day. How isthe baby now quite well! Good; Yes;oh, yes, excellent. In simple cases thesemild carminatives are just the thing.Keep his diet steady, though, while thewarm weather lasts. I saw him with adoughnut the other day, and took itaway from him; knew he got it byaccident, of course. Yes, bread andmilk, that kind of thing. Fine littlefellow, and we want him to have the

best chance there is.

"Miss Wax, I am glad to see you here.Headache all gone, eh Hurrah! I'd keepon with those powders, though, if Iwere you, for a week or two. You'relooking fine, as the Scotch say. Hopeyou won't want to see me again for along time, and it's very good andunselfish of me to say that, for Ihaven't forgotten the plum-cake yougave me.

"How do you do, Deacon glad to seeyou! yes, glorious weather." HereGeoffrey moved easily between DeaconWeight and the three-cornered table,which the deacon was approaching.

"Suppose we stand here in the corner amoment! Men are always rather in theway, don't you think, at things of thiskind Mrs. Weight here to-night ah! yes, Isee her. How well she's looking! Notbeen well yourself, Deacon I'm sorry tohear that. What's the dyspepsia againthat's bad. Have you tried the light dietI recommended Well, I would, if I werein your place. I'd knock off two orthree pounds of your usual diet, andget a bicycle yes, you could. A cousinof mine in New York weighed threehundred pounds before he got hisbicycle; had one made to order, ofcourse, special weight; now he weighs ahundred and seventy-five, and is asactive as a cat. Great thing! ah, excuse

me, Deacon!"

He crossed the room, and bowed lowbefore a lady with white hair and anamazing cap, who had been gazing athim with twinkling eyes. This was Mrs.Tree, the Misses Blyths' aunt.

"Mrs. Tree, how do you do why wereyou looking at me in that way I've beentrying to speak to you all the evening,but you have been surrounded. I thinkit's a shame for a women over twenty-five" (Mrs. Tree was ninety, andimmensely proud of her age) "tomonopolise all the attention. What doyou think "

"I think you're a sassy boy!" repliedMrs. Tree, with vivacity. "I thinkchildren should speak when they'respoken to; that's what I think."

She clicked some castanets in herthroat, which was her way of laughing.

"But you didn't speak to me," saidGeoffrey. "You wouldn't speak. Do yousuppose I was going to wait all theevening What a wonderful cap you'vegot, Mrs. Tree! I'm going to have onemade exactly like it. Will you go in tosupper with me Do! I want to cut outthe minister, and he is coming to askyou now. I am much more amusingthan he is, you know I am."

Mrs. Tree did know it. The minister waswaved off, and the oldest parishionersailed in to supper on Doctor Strong'sarm.

"Why don't you get married," she askedon the way, "instead of fooling aroundold folks this way If I was your ma'am,I'd find a wife for ye, first thing I did.You're too sassy to stay unmarried."

"Miss Vesta won't have me," saidGeoffrey; "and I won't have anybodyelse, unless you will relent, Mrs. Tree.Now, what do you want lobster saladWell, I shall not give you that. If youeat it you will be ill tomorrow, and then

Direxia will send for me, and you willthrow my medicine out of the windowand get well without it, and then laughin my face. I know you! have someescalloped oysters, there's a dear!"

"I wish't I'd come in with the ministernow!" said Mrs. Tree.

"I don't believe a word of it!" saidGeoffrey. "It's much less dangerous foryou to flirt with me, you know it is;though even now Miss Phoebe islooking at us very seriously, Mrs. Tree,very seriously indeed."

"If I was Phoebe, I'd send you to bed!"said Mrs. Tree. "That's what I'd do!"

CHAPTER VIII.

REVELATION

It was a perfect evening. The water laylike rosy glass under the sinking sun.Not a breath of air was stirring, andeven on the beach the ripple did notbreak, merely whispered itself away infoam. The canoe moved easily, when itdid move, under a practised stroke, butmuch of the time it lay at ease, rockinga little now and then as a swell rose andmelted under it. Vesta lay among herpillows at one end, and Geoffrey faced

her. Her face was turned toward thewest, and he wondered whether it wasonly the sunset glow that touched it, orwhether the faint rosy flush belongedthere. Certainly the waxen hue wasgone; certainly the girl was wonderfullybetter. But he did not look at her much,because it got into his breathingsomehow. He had not been paddlingfor a year, and he was "soft," of course;nothing surprising in that.

He was telling her about some of hispatients. The thing that did surprisehim was the interest she seemed to take;active, intelligent interest. Being sickherself, perhaps, gave her a naturalsympathy; and she certainly had

extraordinary intelligence, even insight.Singular thing for a girl to have!

"But what became of the poor littlefellow did he live better not, I am sure.I hope he did not."

"Yes; almost a pity, but he did live. Gotwell, too, after a fashion, but he'll neverbe able to do anything."

The girl was silent. Presently "I wonderwhether it is worth while to get wellafter a fashion!" she said. "I wonder ifit's worth while to go on living andnever be able to do anything. I supposeI shall find out."

"You!" said the young doctor. "You willbe entirely well in a year, Miss Blyth; I'dbe willing to wager it."

Vesta shook her head.

"No!" she said. "The spring is broken.There is nothing real the matter withme, I know that well enough. It'snothing but nerves and heart, andmind; nothing but the whole of my lifebroken and thrown aside."

She spoke bitterly, and Geoffrey felt apang of compassion. She was soyoung, and so pretty beautiful was theword, rather. It seemed too cruel. Ifonly she would not say anything more

about it! How could she was it becausehe was a physician He would go and bea costermonger if that

"You see," she went on, slowly; "I caredso tremendously. I had thought ofnothing else for years, dreamed ofnothing else. All there was of me wentinto it. And then, then when this came;when he told me I it was pretty hard."

The quiver in her voice was controlledinstantly, but it was almost worse thanthe sobs. Geoffrey broke out, fiercely:

"I don't know whether this man ismore a beast or a devil; but I know thathe is not fit to live, and I wish I "

Vesta looked up at him in surprise. Hisface was crimson; his angry eyes lookedbeyond her, above her, anywhere exceptat her.

"I don't know what you mean!" shesaid. "He was neither. He was kind, oh,very kind. He did it as tenderly aspossible. I shall always be grateful " thequiver came again, and she stopped.

"Oh!" cried Geoffrey. He drove hispaddle savagely into the water, and thecanoe leaped forward. What werewomen made of why, why must he besubjected to this

The silence that followed was almostworse than the speech. Finally he stole aglance at his companion, and saw herface still faintly rosy it must be mostlythe light and set in a sadness that hadno touch of resentment in it.

"Perhaps you don't like my talkingabout it," she said, after awhile.

Geoffrey uttered an inarticulatemurmur, but found no words.

"The aunties don't. Aunt Phoebe getsangry, and Aunt Vesta tearful andembarrassed. But well, I could not stayat home. Everything there reminded meI thought if I came here, where no

such ideas ever entered, I might beginnot to forget, but to resign myself alittle, after a time. But I found you here.No, let me speak!" She raised her hand,as Geoffrey tried to interrupt.

"I have to make you understand if Ican why I was rude and odious andungrateful when I first came, for I wasall those things, and I am not naturallyso, I truly don't think I am. But, don'tyou see to come right upon some onewho was having all that I had lost,enjoying all I had hoped to enjoy, andcaring well, perhaps as much as I cared,but still in a different way, a man's way,taking it all as a matter of course, whereI would have taken it on my knees "

"You must let me speak now, MissBlyth," said Geoffrey Strong. He spokeloud and quickly, to drown the noise inhis ears.

"I cannot let you go on under such atotal misapprehension. I could not in alifetime say how sorry I am for yourcruel trouble. It makes me rage; I'd liketo never mind that now! but you arewholly mistaken in thinking thatanything of the kind has ever comeinto my own life. I don't know howyou received the impression, but youmust believe me when I say I havenever had any any such affair, nor theshadow of one. It isn't my line. I not

only never have had, but probablynever shall have " he was hurrying outword upon word, hoping to get it overand done with once and for ever. Butletting his eyes drop for an instant tothe girl's face, he saw on it a look ofsuch unutterable amazement that hestopped short in his headlong speech.

They gazed at each other from alienworlds. At length "Doctor Strong," saidVesta, and the words dropped slowly,one by one, "what do you mean "

Geoffrey was silent. If she did notknow what he meant, he certainly didnot.

"What do you mean " she repeated. "Ido not understand one word of whatyou are saying."

Geoffrey tried hard to keep his temper."You were speaking of yourdisappointment," he said, stiffly. "Youseemed to take it for granted that I wasengaged in some affair of a similarnature, and I felt bound to undeceiveyou. I have never been what is called inlove in my life."

The bewilderment lingered in Vesta'seyes for an instant; then a light cameinto them. The sunset rushed in onecrimson wave over face and neck andbrow; she fell back on her pillows,

quivering from head to foot. Was shegoing to cry again

She was laughing! silently at first, tryinghard to control herself; but now herlaughter broke forth in spite of her,and peal after peal rang out, wild andsweet, helpless in its intensity.

Geoffrey sat paralysed a moment; thenthe professional instinct awoke."Hysteria! another manifestation, that isall. I must stop it."

He leaned forward.

"Miss Blyth!"

"Ha, ha, ha!" laughed the girl. "Oh,dear, oh, dear! what shall I do ha, ha,ha, ha! oh, what shall I do "

"Stop!" said Geoffrey Strong. "Do youhear me stop!"

"Oh, yes, I hear you but it is so funny!oh, it is so funny! ha, ha, ha! what shallI do "

"What shall I do " said Geoffrey tohimself. "She'll have the canoe over inanother minute." He crept toward thegirl, and seized her wrists in a firm grip.

"Be still!" he said. "I shall hold youuntil you are quiet. Be still! no more! be

still!"

"You hurt me!" whispered the girl. Thewild laughter had died away, but shewas still shaking, and the tears wererunning down her cheeks.

"I mean to hurt you. I shall hurt youmore, if you are not quiet. As soon asyou are quiet I will let you go. Be stillstill there!"

He loosed her hands, and took up thepaddle again. This kind of thing wasvery exhausting; he was quiveringhimself, quite perceptibly. Now whynerves of sympathy

He paddled on in silence; the sun wentdown, and the afterglow spread andbrightened along the sky. He hardlythought of his companion, his wholemind bent on suppressing the turmoilthat was going on in himself.

He started at the sound of her voice; itwas faint, but perfectly controlled.

"Doctor Strong!"

"Miss Blyth!"

"You thought I had had adisappointment in love "

"I did!"

"You are mistaken. You misunderstoodmy aunt, or me, or both. I have never,any more than you "

Her voice grew stronger, and she satupright.

"It was so very funny no, I am not goingoff again but I think there was someexcuse for me this time. You certainlyare having every opportunity ofstudying my case, Doctor Strong. Thetruth is oh, I supposed it had beenmade clear to you; how could Isuppose anything else It was my career,my life, that I had to give up, not not aman. You say you have never been what

is called in love; Doctor Strong, nomore have I!"

There was silence, and now it was inGeoffrey's face that the tide rose. Such aburning tide it was, he fancied he heardthe blood hiss as it curled round theroots of his hair. He noted this ascurious, and remembered that inhanging or drowning it was the triflesthat stamped themselves upon themind. Also, it appeared that he washollow, with nothing but emptinesswhere should have been his vital parts.

"Shall I say anything " he asked,presently. "There isn't anything to say, isthere, except to beg your pardon would

you like to hear that I am a fool Butyou know that already. Your aunt thingswere said that were curiouslymisleading not that that is any excuseDo you want me to go into detail, ormay I drown myself quietly "

"Oh! don't," said Vesta, smiling. "Icould not possibly paddle myselfhome, and I should infallibly upset thecanoe in trying to rescue you."

"You would not try!" said Geoffrey,gloomily. "It would not be human ifyou tried."

"It would be professional," said Vesta."Come, Doctor Strong, you see I can

laugh about it, and you must laugh, too.Let us shake hands, and agree to forgetall about it."

Geoffrey shook hands, and said shewas very magnanimous; but he still felthollow. The only further remark thathis seething brain presented was a scrapof ancient doggerel:

"I wish I was dead, Or down at Owl'sHead, Or anywhere else but here!"

This was manifestly inappropriate, sohe kept silence, and paddled ondoggedly.

"And aren't you going to ask what my

disappointment really was " inquiredVesta, presently. "But perhaps you haveguessed "

No, Geoffrey had not guessed.

"Don't you want to know I shouldreally it would be a comfort to me totalk it over with you, if you don'tmind."

Geoffrey would be delighted to hearanything that she chose to tell him.

"Yes, you seem delighted. Well you see,you have not understood, notunderstood in the very least; and nowin a moment you are going to know all

about it." She paused for a moment,and there was an appeal in her clear,direct gaze; but Geoffrey did not wantto be appealed to.

"I was at Johns Hopkins," said Vesta."It was the beginning of my secondyear; I broke down, and had to give itup. I was studying medicine myself,Doctor Strong."

"Oh!" cried Geoffrey Strong.

The exclamation was a singular one; along cry of amazement andreprobation. Every fibre of the manstiffened, and he sat rigid, a statue ofDisapproval.

"I beg your pardon!" he said, after amoment. "I said it before, but I don'tknow that there is anything else to say.No doubt I was very stupid, yet Ihardly know how I could havesupposed just this to be the truth. I no!I beg your pardon. That is all."

The girl looked keenly at him. "You arenot sorry for me any more, are you "she said.

Geoffrey was silent.

"You were sorry, very sorry!" she wenton. "So long as you thought I had lostthat precious possession, a lover; had

lost the divine privilege of what is thekind of thing they say merging my lifein another's, becoming the meek andgentle helpmeet of my God-given lordand master you were very sorry. I couldnot make it out; it was so unlike what Iexpected from you. It was so human, sokind, so yes, so womanlike. But themoment you find it is not a man, butonly the aspiration of a lifetime, thesame aspiration that in you is right andfitting and beautiful you you sit therelike a lamp-post and disapprove ofme."

"I am sorry!" said Geoffrey. He wastrying hard to be reasonable, and saidto himself that he would not be

irritated, come what might. "I cannotapprove of women studying medicine,but I am sorry for you, Miss Blyth."

Her face, which had been bitter enoughin its set and scornful beauty, suddenlymelted into a bewildering softness oflight and laughter. She leaned forward."But it was funny!" she said. "It wasvery, very funny, Doctor Strong, youmust admit that. You were socompassionate, so kind, thinking me "

"Do you think perhaps but never mind!you certainly have the right to saywhatever you choose," said Geoffrey,holding himself carefully.

"And all the time," she went on, "Iutterly unconscious, and only frettingbecause I could not have my own life,my own will, my own way!"

"By Jove!" said Geoffrey, starting. "Thatthat's what I say myself!"

"Really!" said Vesta, dryly. "You see Ialso am human, after all"

"Do you see little Vesta anywhere, sister" asked Miss Phoebe Blyth.

Miss Vesta had just lighted her lamp,and was standing with folded hands, inher usual peaceful attitude of content,gazing out upon the sunset sea. A black

line lay out there on the rosy gold ofthe water; she had been watching it,watching the rhythmic flash of thepaddle, and thinking happy, gentlethoughts, such as old ladies of tenderheart often think. Miss Phoebe had nopart in these thoughts, and Miss Vestalooked hurriedly round at the sound ofher crisp utterance. Her breath fluttereda little, but she did not speak. MissPhoebe came up behind her and peeredout of the window. "I don't see wherethe child can be," she said, ratherquerulously. "I thought she was in thegarden, but I don't do you see heranywhere, Vesta "

Miss Vesta had never read the

"Pickwick Papers;" she consideredDickens vulgar; but her conduct at thismoment resembled that of SamuelWeller on a certain noted occasion.Raising her eyes to the twilight sky,Miss Vesta said, gently, "No, SisterPhoebe, I do not!"

CHAPTER IX.

SIDE LIGHTS

ELMERTON, June 20, 1900.

DEAR JIM: It is rather curious thatyou should have written me this

particular letter at this particular time.'Give me a man's coincidences and I'llgive you his life!' Who is it says that

You want my opinion about women'sstudying medicine; you personally havereason to think that the career ofmedicine is not incompatible with truewomanliness, exquisite refinement,perfect grace and breeding. I reallycannot copy your whole letter. Thesymptoms are, alas, only too familiar!You have met your Fate again (andthose foolish old Greeks used tobelieve there were only three of 'em!)and she is a doctor, or is going to beone. Well it's curious, as I said, for ithappens that I have been thinking more

or less about the same matter. I used tofeel very strongly about it hang it, I stillfeel very strongly about it! A girl doesn'tknow what she is doing when she goesinto medicine. I grant that she does it,in many cases, from the highestpossible motives. I grant that she is farahead of most men in her ideas of theprofession, and what it means, or oughtto mean. But, all the same, she doesn'tknow what she is going in for, and Icannot conceive of a man's letting anywoman he cares for go on with it. Shemust lose something; she must, I tellyou; she cannot help it. And even if itisn't the essential things, still it changesher. She is less woman, less whateveryou choose to call it. A coarser touch

has come upon her, and she is changed.Well, I say I believe all this, and I do,with all my soul; and yet, as you say, it'scruel hard for a young creature, allkeyed up to a pitch of enthusiasm anddevotion and noble aspiration, to bechecked like a boy's kite, and broughtdown to the ground and told to mindher seam. It's cruel hard, I can see that;I can feel and sympathise intensely withall that part of it, and honour thepurpose and the spirit, even though Icannot approve of the direction.

Oh, glancing at your letter again, I seethat in your friend's case everythingseems to be going on smoothly. Well,the principle remains the same. I

suppose I seem to have drifted awayfrom your question, somehow Isuppose one woman in ten thousandmay make a good physician. I supposethat this ten-thousandth woman awoman who is all that you say may bejustified, perhaps, in becoming aphysician; whether a woman physiciancan remain all that you say ah! that is thequestion! Man alive, am I PhoebusApollo, that I should know the answersto all the questions I wish I could findthe way to Delphi myself.

But don't get the idea that you bore mewith your confidences, old man. Did Isay so on the contrary, tell me all youcan; it interests me extremely. I am

thinking about these matterspathologically a good deal. A physicianhas to, of course. Tell me how you feel,how it takes you. Do you find it getsinto your breathing sometimes, likerarefied air Curious sensation, rarefiedair I remember it on Mont Blanc.

What am I doing Man, I am practisingmedicine! Cases at present, one typhoid,two tonsilitis, five measles, eightdyspepsia, six rheumatism, et id gen om.,one cantankerousness (she calls itdepression), one gluttony, one nerves.Pretty busy, but my wheel keeps me ingood trim. I have been paddling moreor less, too, to keep chest and arms upwith the rest of the procession.

The old ladies are as dear as ever; if Iam not wholly spoilt, it will not be theirfault, bless their kind hearts! The nieceis better, I think.

Good-bye, old man! write again soon,and tell me more about Amaryllis. Howpretty the classical names are: Chloe,Lalage, Diana, Vesta. I was brought upon Fannies and Minnies and Lotties,with Eliza for a change. Horrible name,Eliza!

GEOFF.

The young doctor had just posted theabove letter, and was sauntering along

the street on his way home. It lacked anhour of tea-time, and he waswondering which of several things heshould do. There was hardly time for apaddle; besides, Vesta Blyth had gonefor a drive with the minister's daughter.Geoffrey did not think driving half asgood for her as being on the water. Hemust contrive to get through hisafternoon calls earlier to-morrow. Hemight stop and see how Tommy Candywas, no! there was Tommy, sitting bythe roadside, pouring sand over hishead from a tin cup. He was all right,then; the young doctor thought hewould be if they stopped dosing him,and fed him like a Christian for a day ortwo. Well, there was no one else who

could not wait till morning. Whyshould he not go and call on Mrs. Treehere he was at the house. It was thehour when in cities the sophisticatedclustered about five o'clock tea-tables,and tested the comfort of variouschairs, and indulged in talk as thin asthe china and bread and butter. Fiveo'clock tea was unknown in Elmerton,but Mrs. Tree would be glad to see him,and he always enjoyed a crack with her.

He turned in at the neat gate. Thehouse stood well back from the street,in the trimmest and primmest littlegarden that ever was seen. Most of theshrubs were as old as their owner, andhad something of her wrinkled

sprightliness; and the annuals felt theirresponsibilities, and tried to live up tothe York and Lancaster rose and thestrawberry bush.

The door was opened by a Brownie,disguised in a cap and apron. This wasDirexia Hawkes, aunt to DiplomaGrotty. In his mind Geoffrey hadchristened the little house the Aunt'sNest, but he never dared to tellanybody this.

"Well, Direxia, how is Mrs. Tree to-daywould she like to see me, do you think"

"She ain't no need to see you!"

The young doctor looked grieved, andturned away.

"But I expect she'd be pleased to. Stepin!"

This was Direxia's one joke, and shenever tired of it; no more did Geoffrey.He entered the cool dim parlour, whichsmelt of red cedar; the walls werepanelled with it. The floor was ofpolished oak, dark with age; the chairsand tables were of rare foreign woods,satin and leopard wood, violet-woodand ebony. The late Captain Tree hadbeen a man of fancy, and, sailing onmany seas, never forgot his name, but

bought precious woods wherever hefound them.

"Here's the doctor!" said Direxia. "Iexpect he'll keep right on coming till hefinds you sick."

"That's what he will do!" said Geoffrey."No chance for me to-day, though, Isee. How do you do, Mrs. Tree I thinkit is hardly respectable for you to lookso well. Can't you give me one littlesymptom not a tiny crick in your backyou ought to have one, sitting in thatchair."

Mrs. Tree was sitting bolt upright in anancient straight-backed chair of curious

workmanship. It was too high for her,so her little feet, of which she wasinordinately vain, rested on a hassockof crimson tapestry. She wore whitesilk stockings, and slippers ofcinnamon-coloured satin to match hergown. A raffled black silk apron, a netkerchief pinned with a quaint diamondbrooch, and a cap suggesting theCorinthian Order, completed hercostume. Her face was netted close withfine wrinkles, but there was no sign ofage in her bright dark eyes.

"Never you trouble yourself about mycheer!" said the old lady with someseverity. "Sit down in one yourselfthere are plenty of lolloping ones if

your back's weak and tell me whatmischief you have been up to lately. Iwouldn't trust you round the corner."

"You'll break my heart some day," saidGeoffrey, with a heavy sigh; "and thenyou will be sorry, Mrs. Tree. MischiefLet me see! I set Jim Arthur's collar-bone this morning; do you care aboutJim Arthur he fell off his bicycleagainst a stone wall."

"Serve him right, too!" said Mrs. Tree."Riding that nasty thing, running folksdown and scaring their horses. I'd put'em all in the bonfire-pile if I wasTown Council. Your turn will comesome day, young man, for all you go

spinning along like a spool of cotton.How's the girls "

She rang the bell, and Direxia appeared.

"Bring the cake and sherry!" she said."It's a shame to spoil boys, but whenthey're spoilt already, there's less harmdone. How's the girls "

Geoffrey reported a clean bill of health,so far as Miss Phoebe and Miss Vestawere concerned. "I really am proud ofMiss Phoebe!" he said. "She says shefeels ten years younger than she didthree months ago, and I think it's true."

"Phoebe has no call to feel ten years

younger!" said Mrs. Tree, shortly. "She'sa very suitable age as it is. I don't like tosee a cat play kitten, any more than Ilike to see a kitten play cat. How's thechild "

"I should like to see Miss Phoebeplaying kitten!" said Geoffrey, his eyesdancing. "It would be something toremember. What child, Mrs. Tree "

"The little girl; little Vesta. Is shecoming out of her tantrums, think "

"She is a great deal better, certainly,"said Geoffrey. "I hope I feel sure thatshe will recover entirely in time. Butyou must not call her trouble tantrums,

Mrs. Tree, really. Neurasthenia is arecognised form of "

"You must have looked quite prettywhen you was short-coated!" said theold lady, irrelevantly. "Have some winethe cake is too rich for you, but youmay have just a crumb."

"You must have been the wickedestthing alive when you were eighteen!"said Geoffrey, pouring out the ambersherry into a wonderful gilt glass. "Iwish Direxia would stay in the roomand matronise me; I'm afraid, I tellyou."

"If Direxia had nothing better to do,

I'd send her packing," said Mrs. Tree."Here!"

They touched glasses solemnly.

"Wishing you luck in a wife!" said theold lady.

"Good gracious!" cried Geoffrey.

"It's what you need, young man, andyou'd better be looking out for one.There must be some one would haveyou, and any wife is better than none."

She looked up, though not at Geoffrey,and a twinkle came into her eyes. "Doyou call little Vesta pretty, now " she

asked.

"Not pretty," said Geoffrey; "that is notthe word. I "

"Then you'd better not call heranything," said Mrs. Tree, "for she's inthe door behind ye."

Geoffrey started violently, and turnedaround. Vesta was standing framed inthe dark doorway. The clear whitenessof her beauty had never seemed morewonderful. The faint rose in her cheeksonly made the white more radiant; hereyes were no longer agate-like, but softand full of light; only her smileremained the same, shadowy, elusive, a

smile in a dream.

When the young doctor rememberedhis manners and rose to his feet afterall, it was only a moment or two he sawthat Miss Vesta was standing behindher niece, a little gray figure meltinginto the gloom of the twilight hall. Thetwo now entered the room together.

"Aunt Vesta wanted you to see my newhat, Aunt Tree," said the girl. "Do youlike it "

"Yes!" said Miss Vesta, coming forwardtimidly. "Good evening, Aunt Marcia.Oh, good evening to you, DoctorStrong. The hat seemed to me so pretty,

and you are always so kindly interested,Aunt Marcia! I ought to apologise toyou, Doctor Strong, for introducingsuch a subject."

"Vesta, don't twitter!" said Mrs. Tree. "Isthere anything improper about the hatIt's very well, child, very well. I alwaysliked a scoop myself, but folks don'tknow much nowadays. What do youthink of it, young man "

Geoffrey thought it looked like a lunarhalo, but he did not say so; he saidsomething prim and conventionalabout its being very pretty andbecoming.

"Are you going to sit down " askedMrs. Tree. "I can't abide to see folksstanding round as if they was hat-poles."

Miss Vesta slipped into a seat, but theyounger Vesta shook her head.

"I must go on!" she said. "Aunt Phoebeis expecting a letter, and I must tell herthat there is none."

"Yes, dear, yes!" said Miss Vesta. "YourAunt Phoebe will be impatient,doubtless; you are right. And perhaps itwill be best for me, too " she half rose,but Mrs. Tree pulled her down againwithout ceremony.

"You stay here, Vesta!" shecommanded. "I want to see you. Butyou" she turned to Geoffrey, who hadremained standing "can go along withthe child, if you're a mind to. You'll getnothing more out of me, I tell ye."

"I am going to send you a measlesbacillus to-morrow morning," said theyoung doctor. "You must take it in yourcoffee, and then you will want to seeme every day. Good-bye, Mrs. Tree!some day you will be sorry for yourcruelty. Miss Vesta till tea-time!"

Aunt and niece watched the youngcouple in silence as they walked along

the street. Both walked well; it was apleasure to see them move. He was tallenough to justify the little courteousbend of the head, but not enough tomake her anxious about the top of herhat if she ever had such anxieties.

"Well!" said Mrs. Tree, suddenly.

Miss Vesta started. "Yes, dear AuntMarcia!" she said. "Yes, certainly; I amhere."

"They make a pretty couple, don't they" said the old lady. "If she would comeout of her tantrums, hey, Vesta "

"Oh, Aunt Marcia!" said Miss Vesta,

softly. She blushed very pink, andlooked round the room with a furtive,frightened glance.

"No, there's no one behind the sofa,"said Mrs. Tree; "and there's no oneunder the big chair, and Phoebe is safeat home with her knitting, and the bestplace for her." (Mrs. Tree did not "geton" with her niece Phoebe.) "There's nouse in looking like a scared pigeon,Vesta Blyth. I say they make a prettycouple, and I say they would make apretty couple coming out of churchtogether. I'd give her my Mechelinflounces; you'll never want 'em."

"Oh, Aunt Marcia!" said dear Miss

Vesta, clasping her soft hands. "If itmight be the Lord's will "

"The Lord likes to be helped alongonce in a while!" said Mrs. Tree. "Don'ttell me! I wasn't born yesterday." Andthis statement was not to becontroverted.

CHAPTER X.

OVER THE WAY

"Deacon," said Mrs. Weight, "Mis' Treeis sick!"

"Now, reelly!" said the deacon. "Is thatso "

"It is so. She sent for Doctor Strongthis morning. I saw Direxia go out, andshe was gone just the len'th of time togo to the girls' and back. Pretty soon hecame, riding like mad on that wheelthing of his. He stayed 'most an hour,and came out with a face a yard long. Iexpect it's her last sickness, don't you "

"Mebbe so!" said the deacon,dubiously. "Mis' Tree has had a longlife; she'd oughter be prepared; I trustshe is. She has always loved the world'sthings, but I trust she is. Ain't thisruther a slim dinner, Viny I was looking

for a boiled dinner to-day, kind of."

"Fried apples and pork was goodenough for my father," replied his wife,"and I guess they'll do for you,Ephraim Weight. Doctor Strong saysyou eat too much every day of yourlife, and that's why you run to flesh so.Not that I think much of what he says.I asked him how he accounted for mebeing so fleshy, and not the value of agreat spoonful passing my lips somedays; he made answer he couldn't say. Ithink less of that young man'sknowledge every time I see him. 'Pearsto me if I was the Blyth girls, I shouldbe real unwilling to have my aunt passaway with no better care than she's

likely to get from him. Billy, where'syour push-piece I don't want to see youpush with your fingers again. It's realvulgar."

"I've eat it!" said Billy. "Mother, there'sthe young lady from Miss Blythsesgoing in to Mis' Tree's."

"I want to know so she is! She's got abag with her. She's going to stay. Well, Iexpect that settles it. I should thinkPhoebe and Vesta would feel kind o'bad, being passed over in that way, butit's pleasant to have young folks about adying bed Annie Lizzie, I'll slap you ifyou don't stop kicking under the tableand Nathaniel was always his aunt's

favourite. Most likely she's left herproperty to him, or to this girl. I expectit'll be a handsome provision. Mis' Treehas lived handsome and close all herdays. As you say, deacon, I hope she'sprepared, but I never see any signs ofactive piety in her myself."

There was a pause, while all the familyexcept Annie Lizzie, who profited bythe interlude to take two doughnutsbeyond her usual allowance gazedeagerly at the house opposite.

"She's questioning Direxia. She'sshaking her head. Mebbe it's all over bynow; I expect it is. I declare, there's akind of solemn look comes over a

house you can't name it, but it's there.Deacon, I think you'd ought to stepover. Elder Haskell is away, you know,and you senior deacon; I do certainlythink you'd ought to step over andoffer prayer, or do whatever's needful.They'll want you to break it to the girls,like as not; it's terrible to have no manin a family. All them lone women, andeverything to see to; I declare, my heartwarms to 'em, if Phoebe is cranky. Ain'tyou going, Deacon "

The deacon hesitated. "I ain't sure thatI'd better, Viny!" he said. "I feel noassurance that Mis' Tree has passedaway, and she is not one that welcomesinquiry as a rule. I've no objection to

asking at the door "

"Now, Deacon, if that isn't you all over!you are always so afraid of puttingyourself forward. Where would youhave been this day, I should like toknow, if it hadn't been for me shovingbehind I tell you, when folks comes totheir last end they suffer a great change.If you let that woman die though it'smy firm belief she's dead a'readywithout at least trying to bring her statebefore her, you'll have to answer for it; Iwon't be responsible. Here's your hat;now you go right over. There's noknowing "

"There's Doctor Strong going in now!"

pleaded the deacon. "Most likely he willsee to "

"Ephraim Weight! look me in the eye!We've lived opposite neighbours to Mis'Tree twenty years, and do you think I'mgoing to have it said that when her timecame to die we stood back and letstrangers, and next door to heathen, dofor her If you don't go over. I shall.Mebbe I'd better go, anyway. Wait till Iget my bunnit "

It ended with the deacon's going alone.Slowly and unwillingly he ploddedacross the street, and shuffled up thewalk; timidly and half-heartedly helifted the shining knocker and let it fall.

Direxia Hawkes opened the door, andhe passed in.

* * * * *

"Well " said Mrs. Weight.

The deacon had not made a long stay atthe opposite house. Returning fasterthan he came, his large white cheekswere slightly flushed; his pale blue eyeswore a startled look. He suffered hiswife to take his hat and stick from him,and opened his mouth once or twice,but said nothing.

"Well " said Mrs. Weight again. "Is shedead, Deacon Ephraim, what has

happened to you have you lost the useof your speech Oh! what will becomeof me, with these four innocent "

"Woman, be still!" said EphraimWeight; and his wife was still, gaping inutter bewilderment at this turning ofher mammoth but patient worm.

"Mrs. Tree is not dead!" resumed thedeacon. "I don't see as she's any morelikely to die than I am. I don't see asthere's any living thing the matter withher except the devil!"

At this second outburst Mrs. Weightcollapsed, and sat down, her hands onher knees, staring at her husband. The

children whimpered and crept behindher ample back. "Pa" was transformed.

"I went to that house," Deacon Weightwent on, "against my judgment, Viny;you know I did. I felt no call to go,quite the reverse, but you were so

"I found Mis' Tree sitting up straight inher chair in the parlour. She had hernightcap on, and her feet in a footmuff,but that was all the sign of sickness Icould see. She looked up at me aswicked as ever I saw her. 'Here's thedeacon,' she says! 'he's heard I'm sickViny saw you come, doctor, and he hascome to pray over me. I'm past prayingfor, Deacon. Have some orange cordial!'

"There was glasses on the tray, and adecanter of that cordial Direxia makes;it's too strong for a temperancehousehold. Doctor Strong and thatyoung Blyth girl were sitting on twostools, and they was all three playingcards! I suppose I looked none too wellpleased, for Mis' Tree said, 'I can't haveyou turning my cordial sour, EphraimWeight. Remember when you stoleoranges out of the schooner, and Cap'nTree horsed you up and spanked youhere's your health, Ephraim!'

"She she looked at me for a minute,sharp and quick I was seeking for someword that might bring her to a sense of

her state, and what was fitting at her ageand then she begun to laugh. 'Youthought I was dead!' says she. 'Youthought I was dead, I see it in your face;and Viny sent you to view the remains.You go home, and tell her I'll bury yeboth, and do it handsome. Go 'longwith ye! scat!'

"That was the expression she used, to asenior deacon of the congregation shesits in. I believe Satan has a strong holdon that old woman. I I think I will goto my room, wife."

* * * * *

"Do you think there is really anything

the matter with Aunt Tree " askedVesta. She had followed the youngdoctor out into the prim little garden,and was picking some late roses as shespoke.

"I can't make out anything," saidGeoffrey. "She says she has a pain, andtells me to find out where it is, if Iknow anything; and then she laughs inmy face, and refuses to answerquestions. I think Mr. Tree must havehad a lively time of it; she's perfectlydelightful, though. Her pulse andtemperature are all right; she looks well;of course at that age the slightest breathblows out the flame, but I cannot makeout that anything is actually wrong. I

suspect "

"What " said Vesta.

"I suspect she simply wanted you tocome and stay with her, and made thisan excuse."

"But I would have come; there was noneed of any excuse. I would have comein a minute if she had asked me; I amso very much stronger, and I love tostay here."

"You won't stay long, though, will youit can't be necessary, not in the leastnecessary. She is really perfectly well,and we your aunts, that is the house

will be too forlorn without you."

Vesta laughed; she had a delightfullaugh.

"You have charming manners!" shesaid. "I can't help knowing that you willreally be glad to be rid of me, all butAunt Vesta; dear Aunt Vesta."

"You don't know!" said Geoffrey. "Itwon't be the same place without you."

"Yes, I do know; Aunt Phoebe told me.You said the three of you made theperfect triangle, and you wouldn't let inthe Czar of Russia or the Pope ofRome to spoil it."

"Oh! but that was before that was whenthings were entirely different!" saidGeoffrey. "I to tell the truth, I think Iwas about twelve years old when I firstcame to the house. I am growing up alittle, Miss Blyth, I truly am. And youare not in the least like the Czar or thePope either, and I wish you wouldcome back. Mayn't I have a rose, please"

"Oh! all you want, I am sure," saidVesta, heartily. "But they are not reallyso pretty as those at home."

"I thought perhaps you would give meone of those in your hand," said

Geoffrey, half-timidly. "Thank you! Idon't suppose "

He was about to suggest her pinning iton his coat, but caught sight of Mrs.Weight at the opposite window, andrefrained.

"Do you know any Spanish " he asked,abruptly.

"Spanish no!" said Vesta, looking athim wide-eyed.

"Not even names of flowers "

"No! how should I Why do you ask "

"Oh nothing! I was thinking oflearning it one of these days, but Idon't believe I shall. Come and walk alittle way, won't you You look tired. Ican't you must not stay here if you aregoing to get tired, you know. Oldpeople are very exacting sometimes."

"Oh, I shall not get tired. You can'tthink how much better I am. No, Imust go back now, Doctor Strong.Aunt Tree might want something."

"Physician's orders!" said Geoffrey,peremptorily. "Dose of one-half mile,to be taken immediately. Won't youplease come, Miss Blyth I I want to tellyou about a very interesting case."

Mrs. Weight peered over the window-blind. She was carrying a cup of tea tothe deacon, who was feeling poorly, buthad paused at sight of the youngcouple. "If that girl thinks of makingup to that young man," she said, "she'sgot hold of the wrong cob, I can tellher. Mira Pettis made him a napkin-holder, worked 'Bonappety' on it incross-stitch on blue satin, and he give itto the girls' cat for a collar. I see the catwith it on. I don't want to see no clearerthan that how he treats young ladies. Iwish't Doctor Stedman was home."

CHAPTER XI.

BROKEN BONES

Another bicycle accident! This time itwas a head-on collision, two boysriding at each other round a corner, asif for a wager. The young doctor hadpatched them both up, there being nobroken bones, only a dislocatedshoulder and many bruises, and wasnow riding home, reflecting upon thecarelessness of the human race ingeneral, and of boys in particular. Herewas one of the great benefactions ofmodern civilisation, a health-and-pleasure-giving apparatus within thereach of all, and often turned into an

engine of destruction by senselessstupidity. Mrs. Tree would burn allbicycles if she could have her way; notthat Mrs. Tree was stupid, far from it!Miss Phoebe disapproved of them,Miss Vesta feared them, and evidentlyexpected his to blow up from day today. What would they all say if theyknew that he had been trying topersuade Vesta to ride with him Hecalled her Vesta in his thoughts, merelyto distinguish her from her aunt. Hewas quite sure it would be the bestpossible exercise for her, now that shewas so much stronger. So far, she hadmet all his representations with hergentle no! not gentle; Geoffrey wouldbe switched if she was gentle; her quiet

negative. Her aunts would not like it,and there was an end. Well, there wasn'tan end! A reasonable person ought tolisten to reason, and be convinced by it.Vesta did not appear to be reasonableyet, but she was intelligent, and the restwould come as she grew stronger. Andhe had no right to say she was notgentle; she could be the gentlestcreature that ever lived, when it was aquestion of a child, or a bird, oranything that was hurt, in short. Whenthat little beggar fell down the otherday and barked his idiotic little shins,the way she took him up, and kissedhim, and got him to laughing, while he,Geoffrey, plastered him up; and it hurttoo, getting the gravel out. When that

violoncello note gets into her voicewell, you know! Yes, she must certainlyride the bicycle! What could be morerestoring, more delightful, than to ridealong a country road like this, in thesoft afternoon, when the heat of theday was over The honey-clover was inblossom; there were clusters of iteverywhere, making the whole airsweet. Of course he would watch her,keep note of her colour and breathing,see that she did not overdo it. Ofcourse it was his business to see to allthat. What was that the old professorused to say

"There are two hands upon the pulseof life; the detective's, to surprise and

confound, the physician's, to help andto heal."

It was that, after all, that feeling, thatdecided one to be a physician. If hecould do anything to help this beautifuland yes, noble creature, he was boundto do it, wasn't he, whether her auntsliked it or not even, perhaps, whethershe herself liked it or not. Well, but shewould like it, she couldn't help liking it,once she tried it. She was built for arider. He might borrow Miss Flabb'swheel for her. It was absurd for MissFlabb to attempt to ride; she wouldnever do enough to take down herflesh, and meantime, being near-sighted, she was at the mercy of every

stray dog and hen, and likely to be rundown by the first scorcher on thehighroad. Now with him, even at thebeginning, Vesta would have nothing tofear. He would

At this moment came an interruption.The interruption had four legs, andbarked. It came from a neighbouringfarmhouse, and flew straight at thewheel, which was also flying, for theyoung doctor was apt to ride fast whenhe was thinking. There was a whirl ofarms, legs, wheels, and tails, a heavy fall,and the dog ran off on three legs, ki-hying to the skies, and the young doctorlay still in the road.

Half an hour later, Mr. Ithuriel Buttersstopped at the door of the Temple ofVesta. He was driving a pair ofcomfortable old white horses, whowent to sleep as soon as he said"Whoa!" He looked up at the house,and then behind him in the wagon.Seeing nobody at the windows, helooked up and down the street, andwas aware of a young womanapproaching. He hailed her.

"Say, do you know the folks in thathouse "

"Yes," said Vesta; "I am staying there."

"Be!" said Mr. Butters. "Wal, Doctor

Strong boards there too, don't he "

"Yes; I don't think he is in now,though."

"I know he ain't!" said Ithuriel Butters.

Vesta looked with interest at thestalwart old figure, and strong keenface. Most of the wrinkles in the facehad come from smiling, but it wasgrave enough now.

"Will you come in and wait," she asked,"or leave a message "

"Wal, I guess I won't do neither thistime!" said Mr. Butters, slowly.

Vesta looked at him in some perplexity;he returned a glance of grave meaning.

"You kin to him " asked the old man."Sister, or cousin, mebbe "

"No! what is it something hashappened to Doctor Strong!" Vesta'shand tightened on the rail of the steps.

"Keepin' company with him, p'raps "

"No, oh, no! will you tell me at once,please, and plainly, what has happened"

Vesta spoke quietly; in her normal

condition she was always quieter whenmoved; but the colour seemed to fallfrom her cheeks as her eyes followedthose of the old man to something thatlay long and still in the cart behind him.

"Fact is," said Mr. Butters, "I've got himhere. 'Pears to be" the strong old voicefaltered for an instant "'pears to be bustup some consid'able. I found him inthe ro'd a piece back, with hisvelocipede tied up all over him. He ain'tdead, nor he ain't asleep, but I can't gitnothin' out of him, so I jest brung himalong. I'll h'ist him out, if you say so."

"Can you " said Vesta. "I will help you.I am strong enough. Will your horses

stand "

"They can't fall down, 'count of theshafts," said Mr. Butters, clamberingslowly down from his seat, "and theywon't do nothin' else. We'll git him outnow, jest as easy. I think a sight of thatyoung feller; made me feel bad, I tell ye,to see him there all stove up, and thinkmebbe "

"Don't, please!" said Vesta. "I am notvery strong "

"Thought you said you was!" saidIthuriel Butters. "You stand one side,then, if it's the same to you. I can carryhim as easy as I would a baby, and I

wouldn't hurt him no more'n I wouldone."

* * * * *

"There are two hands upon the pulseof life!" said the young doctor.

No one replied to this remark, nor didhe appear to expect a reply. The roomwas darkened, and he was lying on hisbed; at least some one was, hesupposed it was himself. There was asmell of drugs. Some one had beenhurt.

"There are two hands upon the pulseof life," he repeated; "the detective's, to

surprise and confound; the phys physwhat "

"Physician's," said some one.

"That's it! the physician's, to help and toheal. This appears to be combinationboth "

The hand was removed from his wrist.He frowned heavily, and asked if hewere a Mohammedan. Receiving noanswer, repeated the question withsome irritation.

"I don't think so," said the same quietvoice. "Then why turban " he frownedagain, and brought the folds of linen

lower over his nose. They were quietlyreadjusted. The light, firm hand waslaid on his forehead for a moment, thenonce more on his wrist. Thensomething was put to his lips; he wastold to drink, and did so. Than he said,"My name is Geoffrey Strong. There isnothing the matter with me."

"Yes, I know."

"But if you take away your hand I can'thold on, you know."

The hand was laid firmly on his. Hesighed comfortably, murmuringsomething about not knowing thatvioloncellos had hands; dozed a few

minutes; dragged himself up fromunimaginable depths to ask, "You aresure you understand that about thepulse "

Being answered, "Yes, I quiteunderstand," said, "Then you'll see toit!" and slept like a baby.

When he woke next morning, it waswith an alert and inquisitive eye. Theeye glanced here and there, taking indetails.

"What the what is all this "

There was a soft flurry, and Miss Vestawas beside him. "Oh! my dear my dear

young friend! thank God, you areyourself again!"

Geoffrey's eyes softened intotenderness as he looked at her. "DearMiss Vesta! what is the matter I seem tohave " He tried to move his right arm,but stopped with a grimace. "I seem tohave smashed myself. Would it botheryou to tell me about it Stop, though! Iremember! a dog ran out, and gottangled up in the spokes. Oh, yes, Iremember. Am I much damaged armbroken who set it that's a nice bandage,anyhow. But why the malignant and theturbaned Turk effect is my headbroken, too "

"Oh, no, dear Doctor Strong, nothingmalignant; nothing at all of that nature,I assure you. Oh, I hope, I hope thearm is properly cared for! but it was sounfortunate his being laid up withpleurisy just at this time, wasn't it and asevere contusion on your head, you see,so that for some hours we were sadlybut now you are entirely yourself, andwe are so humbly and devoutlythankful, dear Doctor Strong!"

"I think you might say 'Geoffrey,' whenI am all broke up!" said the boy.

"Geoffrey, dear Geoffrey!" murmuredMiss Vesta, patting his sound armsoftly.

"I think you might sit down by me andtell me all about it. Who is laid up withpleurisy how much am I broken whobrought me home who set my arm Iwant to know all about it, please!"

The young doctor spoke with cheerfulimperiousness. Miss Vesta glancedtimorously toward the door, then satdown by the bedside. "Hush!" she said,softly. "You must not excite yourself,my dear young friend, you must not,indeed. I will tell you all about it, if youthink if you are quite sure you ought tobe told. You are a physician, of course,but she was very anxious that youshould not be excited."

"Who was anxious I shall be very muchexcited if you keep things from me,Miss Vesta. I feel my temperature goingup this moment."

"Dear! dear!" cried poor Miss Vesta."Try to to restrain it, Geoffrey, Iimplore you. I will I will tell you atonce. As you surmise, my dear, a dogwe suppose it to have been a dog,though I am not aware that anyone sawthe accident. An old man whom youonce attended Mr. Butters; you spokeof him, I remember found you lying inthe road, my child, quite unconscious.He is an unpolished person, butpossessed of warm affections. I I can

never forget his tender solicitude aboutyou. He brought you home in hiswagon, and carried you into the house.He volunteered to go to Greening forDoctor Namby "

"Namby never put on this bandage!"interrupted Geoffrey.

"No, Geoffrey, no! we do not thinkhighly of Doctor Namby, but there wasno one else, for you seem to feel sostrongly about Doctor Pottle "

"Pottle is a boiled cabbage-head!" saidGeoffrey. "He couldn't set a hen's legwithout tying it in bow-knots, let alonea man's arm. Who did set it, Miss Vesta

I'm sure I must be up to 105 by thistime. I can't answer for theconsequences, you know, if "

"Oh! hush! hush!" cried Miss Vesta."He had the pleurisy, as I said; verybadly indeed, poor man, so that he wasquite, quite invalided "

"Pottle had serve him "

"No, no, Geoffrey; Doctor Namby had.And so she was quite positive sheunderstood the case, and Mr. Buttersupheld her oh, I trust, I trust I did notdo wrong in allowing her to take sograve a responsibility Sister Phoebe inbed with her erysipelas Geoffrey you

will not be angry, my dear young friendLittle Vesta set the arm!"

The word finally spoken, Miss Vesta satpanting quickly and softly, like afrightened bird, her eyes fixed anxiouslyon the young doctor.

The young doctor whistled; thenconsidered the arm again with keenscrutiny.

"The de that is she did, did she " hesaid, half to himself. He felt it all overwith his sound hand, and inspected itagain. "Well, it's a mighty good job," hesaid, "whoever did it."

Miss Vesta's sigh of relief was almost agasp. Geoffrey looked up quickly, andsaw her gentle eyes brimming withtears.

"You dear angel!" he cried, taking herhand. "I have made you anxious. I am abrute a cuttlefish hang me, somebody,do!"

"Oh! hush, hush! my boy!" cried thelittle lady, wiping away her tears. "It wasonly the relief, Geoffrey. To feel thatyou are not angry at her Sister Phoebewould call it presumption, but Vestadid not mean to be presumptuous,Geoffrey and that you think it is not soill done as I feared. I I am so happy,

that is all, my dear!"

She wept silently, and Geoffrey lay andcalled himself names. Presently "Whereis she " he asked.

"Sister Phoebe she is still in bed, andsuffering a good deal. I am continuingthe remedies you gave her. I I havethought it best to let her suppose thatDoctor Namby had attended you,Geoffrey. She is very nervous, and Ifeared to excite her."

Geoffrey commended her wisdom, butmade it clear that he was not thinkingof Miss Phoebe. Couldn't he see MissLittle Vesta he asked. He wanted to to

thank her for what she had done, andask just how she had done it. Therewere all sorts of details in short, it wasimportant that he should see her atonce. Asleep Why it seemedunreasonable that she should be asleepat this hour of the morning. Was shenot well

"She she watched by you most of thenight!" Miss Vesta confessed. "Yourhead she was afraid of congestion, andwanted the cloths changed frequently.She would not let me sit up, Geoffrey,though I begged her to let me do so.She will come as soon as she wakes, Iam sure."

"I told you I was a cuttlefish!" saidGeoffrey. "Now you see! I I believe Iam getting sleepy again, Miss Vesta.What is that pretty thing you havearound your neck Did she sit in thatchair What a fool a man is when he isasleep!"

Seeing his eyelids droop, Miss Vestamoved softly away; was called back atthe door, and found him lookinginjured. "You haven't tucked me up!"he said.

Miss Vesta tucked him up with delicateprecision, and drew the snowycounterpane into absolute smoothness."There!" she said, her gentle eyes

beaming with maternal pleasure. "Isthere anything else, dear doctor I meandear Geoffrey "

"No, nothing unless I don't supposeangels ever kiss people, do they "

Very pink indeed, even to her prettylittle ears, Miss Vesta stooped anddeposited a very small and very timidkiss on his forehead; then slipped awaylike a little shocked ghost, wonderingwhat Sister Phoebe would say.

CHAPTER XII.

CONVALESCENCE

"Where did you get your splints " askedGeoffrey. "Was this thing all arrangedbeforehand you confess to thebandages in your trunk."

Vesta laughed. "Your poor cigars! Itumbled them out of their box withvery little ceremony. See them, scatteredall over the table! I must put them tidy."

She moved to the table, and beganpiling the cigars in a hollow square. "Acigar-box makes excellent splints," shesaid; "did you ever try it "

But Geoffrey was thinking what a

singular amount of light a white dressseemed to bring into a room, and didnot immediately reply.

When he did speak, he said, "Youwatched me I kept you up all night. Iought to be shot."

"That would be twice as troublesome,"said Vesta, gravely; "I can set an arm,but I don't know anything aboutwounds, except theoretically. Perhapsyou would'nt like theoretic treatment."

"Perhaps not. Was there it seems aperfectly absurd question to ask, butwell, was any one playing the 'cello herelast night why do you laugh "

"Only because you seem to have the'cello so on your mind. You said suchfunny things last night, while you werelight-headed, you know."

Geoffrey became conscious of theroots of his hair. "What did I say " heasked.

"You seemed to think that some onewas playing the 'cello; or rather, youfancied there was a 'cello in the room,and it seemed to be endowed with life.You said, 'I didn't know that 'cellos hadhands!' and then you asked if it spokeSpanish. I couldn't help laughing a littleat that, and you were quite short with

me, and told me I that didn't knowphlox from flaxseed. It was verycurious!"

"Must have been!" said Geoffrey, dryly."I'm only thankful was that the worstthing I said "

"Wasn't that bad enough yes, that wasthe very worst. I am going out now,Doctor Strong. Is there anything I cando for you "

"Going out!" repeated Geoffrey, indismay.

"Yes. I have some errands to do. Whatis it " for the cloud on his brow was

unmistakable.

"Oh nothing! I thought you were goingto see to this crack in my skull, but it'sno matter."

"It is hardly two hours since I dressedit," said Vesta. "I thought you said it feltvery comfortable."

"Well it did; but it hurts now,considerably. No matter, though, if youare busy I dare say I could get Pottle tocome in sometime in the course of theday."

He had the grace to be ashamed ofhimself, when Vesta brought basin and

sponge, and began quietly and patientlyto dress the injured temple.

"I know I am fractious," he said,plaintively. "I can't seem to help it."

He looked up, and saw her clear eyesintent and full of light.

"It is healing beautifully!" she said. "Iwish you could see it; it's a lovelycolour now."

"It's a shame to give you all thistrouble," said Geoffrey, trying to feelreal contrition.

"Oh, but I like it!" he was cheerfully

assured. "It's delightful to see a cut likethis."

"Thank you!" said Geoffrey. "I used tofeel that way myself."

"And the callous is going to formquickly in the arm, I am sure of it!" saidVesta, with shining eyes. "I am sopleased with you, Doctor Strong! Andnow there! is that all right Take the glassand see if you like the looks of it. Ithink the turban effect is ratherbecoming. Now is there any one youwould like me to go and see while I amout Of course I have no diploma,nothing of the sort, but I could carryout your orders faithfully, and report to

you."

"Oh, you are very good!" said Geoffrey."But you would be gone all the I meanyour aunts might need you, don't youthink "

"No, indeed! Aunt Phoebe is better Igave her the drops, and Aunt Vesta isbathing her now with the lotion I cantake the afternoon perfectly well. Yourcase-book this one no, truly, DoctorStrong, it will be a pleasure, a realpleasure."

"You're awfully good!" said Geoffrey,ruefully.

"It is the most unfortunate combinationI ever heard of!" said Miss PhoebeBlyth.

Miss Phoebe was in bed, too, andsuffering very considerable discomfort.Erysipelas is not a thing to speak lightlyof; and if it got into Miss Phoebe'stemper as well as into her eyes, this wasnot to be wondered at.

Miss Vesta murmured some soothingwords, and bathed the angry red placesgently; but Miss Phoebe was not to besoothed.

"It is all very well for you, Vesta," saidthe poor lady, "you have never had any

responsibility; of course it is not to besupposed that you should have, withwhat you have gone through. But withall I have on my shoulders, to be laid upin this way is really, I must say!"

This last remark was the sternestcensure that Miss Phoebe was everknown to bestow upon the Orderingsof Providence.

"Has Doctor Pottle attended to thedoctor's arm this morning "

This was the question Miss Vesta hadbeen dreading. She pretended not tohear it; but it was repeated with incisiveseverity.

"You are getting a little hard of hearing,Vesta. I asked you, has Doctor Strong'sarm been attended to this morning "

"Yes! oh, yes, Sister Phoebe, it has. Andit is healing finely, and so is his head.She says I mean "

"You mean he says!" said Miss Phoebe,with a superior air. "This excitement istoo much for you, Vesta. We shall haveyou breaking down next. I do notknow that I care to hear precisely whatDoctor Pottle says. In such anemergency as this we were forced to callhim in, but I have a poor opinion ofhis skill, and none of his intelligence.

If our dear Doctor Strong is doingwell, that is all I need to know."

"Yes, Sister Phoebe," acquiesced MissVesta, with silent thanksgiving.

"When you next visit Doctor Strong'sroom," Miss Phoebe continued, "Iregret that you should be obliged to doso, my dear Vesta, but the disparity inyour years is so great as to obviate anyglaring impropriety, and besides, thereseems to be no help for it, when younext visit him, I beg you to give him mykindest yes! I am convinced that therecan be no you may say my affectionateregards, Vesta. Tell him that I findmyself distinctly better to-day, thanks,

no doubt, to the remedies he hasprescribed; and that I trust in a shorttime to be able to give my personalsupervision to his recovery. You maypoint out to him that a period ofseclusion and meditation, even whennot unmixed with suffering, may oftenbe productive of beneficial results,moral as well as physical; and in a mindlike his hark! what is that sound, Vesta "

Miss Vesta listened. "I think it isDoctor Strong," she said. "I think he issinging, Sister Phoebe. I cannotdistinguish the words; very likely somehymn his mother taught him. Dear lad!"

"He has a beautiful spirit!" said Miss

Phoebe; "there are less signs of activepiety than I could wish, but he has abeautiful spirit. Yes, you are right, it is ahymn, Vesta."

Even if Miss Vesta had distinguishedthe words, it would have made littledifference, since she did notunderstand Italian. For this is what theyoung doctor was singing:

"Voi che sapete che cosa e l'amor,Donne, vedete s'io l'ho nel cuor!"

The sisters listened; Miss Phoebe erectamong her pillows, her nightcap tied ina rigid little bow under her chin; MissVesta sitting beside her, wistful and

anxious, full of tender solicitude forsister, friend, niece, in fact, for all herlittle world. But neither of them couldtell the young doctor what he wantedto know.

* * * * *

It was near sunset when Vesta cameagain into the young doctor's room. Hewas sitting in the big armchair by thewindow. He was cross, and thoughtmedicine a profession for dogs.

"I trust you have enjoyed yourafternoon!" he said, morosely. Then helooked up at the radiant face and happyeyes, and told himself that he was a

squid; cuttlefish was too good a namefor him.

Vesta smiled and nodded, a little out ofbreath.

"I ran up-stairs!" she said. "I didn'tthink, and I just ran. I am well, DoctorStrong, do you realise it Oh, it is sowonderful! It is worth it all, every bit, tofeel the spring coming back. You toldme it would, you know; I didn't believeyou, and I hasten to do homage to yoursuperior intelligence. Hail, Solomon!Yes, I have had a most delightfulafternoon, and now you shall hear allabout it."

She sat down, and took out the note-book. Geoffrey had been wondering allthe afternoon what colour her eyeswere, now that they had ceased to bedark agates. "I know now!" he said."They are like Mary Donnelly's."

"'Her eyes like mountain water Whereit's running o'er a rock.'"

"Whose eyes " asked Vesta. "Not LuellaSlocum's I was just going to tell youabout her."

"No, not hers. How is she You musthave had a sweet time there."

Vesta gave her head a backward shake it

was a pretty way she had and laughed."I am sure I did her good," she said."She was so angry at my coming, sosure I didn't know anything, and soconsumed with desire to know whatand where and how long I had studied,and what my father was thinking of toallow me, and what my mother wouldhave said if she had lived to see the day,and what my aunts would say as it was,that she actually forgot her tic, poorsoul, and talked a great deal, and freedher mind. It's a great thing to free themind. But she said I need not callagain; and I'm afraid I have got youinto disgrace, too, for when I said thatyou would come as soon as you wereable, she sniffed, and said she would let

you know if she wanted you. I amsorry!"

"Are you " said Geoffrey. "I am not.She will send for Pottle to-morrow, andhe will suit her exactly. Where else didyou go "

Several cases were given in detail, andfor a time the talk was sternlyprofessional. Geoffrey found hisquestions answered clearly and directly,with no superfluous words; moreover,there seemed to be judgment andintelligence. Well, he always said thatone woman in ten thousand might

Coming to the last case in the book,

Vesta's face lightened into laughter.

"Oh, those Binney children!" she said."They were so funny and dear! I had adelightful time there. They were allmuch better, Paul's fever entirely gone,and Ellie's throat hardly inflamed at all.They wanted to get up, but I didn'tthink they would better before to-morrow, so we played menagerie, andhad a great time."

"Played menagerie "

"Yes. I made a hollow square with thecribs and some chairs, and they werethe lions, and I was the tamer. Weplayed for an hour, Mrs. Binney was

tired, and I made her go and lie down,and then I sang them to sleep, dear littlelambs, and came away and left them."

"I see!" said Geoffrey. "That is whatmade you so late. Do you think it'sexactly professional to play menageriefor an hour and a half with yourpatients "

Vesta laughed; the happy sound of herlaughter fretted his nerves.

"I suppose that is the way you willpractise, when you have taken yourdegree!" he said, disagreeably.

The girl flushed, and the happy light

left her eyes. "Don't talk of that!" shesaid. "I told you I had given it up onceand for all."

"But you are well now; and I am boundto say you seem in many ways qualifiedfor a physician. You might try againwhen you are entirely strong."

"And break down again thank you. No;I have proved to myself that I cannotdo it, and there is an end."

"Then it's no business of mine, ofcourse what will you do " askedGeoffrey. His ill-temper was dying out.The sound of her voice, so full, soeven, so cordial, filled him like wine. He

wanted her to go on talking; it did notmatter much about what.

"What will you do " he repeated, as thegirl remained silent.

"Oh, I don't know! I suppose I shalljust be a plain woman the rest of mylife."

"I don't think plain is exactly the word!"said Geoffrey.

"You didn't think 'pretty' was!" saidVesta; and, with a flash of laughter, shewas gone.

Geoffrey had not wanted her to go. He

had been alone all the afternoon. (Ah,dear Miss Vesta! was it solitude, thepatient hour you spent by his side,reading to him, chatting, trying yourbest to cheer the depression that youpartly saw, partly divined yes; for whenan experiment in soul-chemistry isgoing on, it is one element, and oneonly, that can produce the neededresult!) He had been alone, I say, all theafternoon, and his head ached, andthere were shooting pains in his arm,and he used to think it would be sointeresting to break a bone, that onewould learn so much better in that kindof way. Well, he was learning, learningno end; only you wanted some one totalk it over with. There was no fun in

knowing things if there was no one totell about them. And anyhow, thisbandage was getting quite dry, or itwould be soon. There was the bowl ofwater on the stand beside him, but hecould not change bandages with onehand. He heard Vesta stirring about inher room, the room next his. She wassinging softly to herself; it didn'ttrouble her much that he was all alone,and suffering a good deal. She had acold nature. Absurd for a person to besinging to chairs and tables, when otherpeople

He coughed; coughed again; sighedlong and audibly. The soft singingstopped; was she

No! it went on again. He knew thetune, but he could not hear the words.There was nothing so exasperating asnot to be able to place a song.

Crash! something shivered on the floor.Vesta came running, the song still onher lips. Her patient was flushed, andlooked studiously out of the window.

"What is it Oh, the bowl! I am so sorry!How did it happen "

"It fell down!" said Geoffrey.

Vesta was on her knees, picking up thepieces, sopping the spilt water with a

towel. He regarded her with remorsefultriumph.

"You were singing!" he said, at length.

"Was I did I disturb you I won't "

"No! I don't mean that. I wanted tohear the words. I I threw the bowldown on purpose."

Vesta looked up in utter amazement;meeting the young doctor's eyes,something in them brought the lovelycolour flooding over her face and neck.

"That was childish!" she said, quietly,and went on picking up the pieces. "It

was a valuable bowl."

"I am feverish!" said Geoffrey. "Thisbandage is getting dry, and I am allprickles."

Vesta hesitated a moment; then she laidher hand on his forehead. "You have nofever!" she said. "You are flushed andrestless, but Doctor Strong, this isconvalescence!"

"Is that what you call it " said Geoffrey.

CHAPTER XIII.

RECOVERY

"Feelin' real smart, be ye " asked Mr.Ithuriel Butters. "Wal, I'm pleased tohear it."

Mr. Butters sat in the young doctor'ssecond armchair, and looked at himwith friendly eyes. His broad back wasturned to the window, but Geoffreyfaced it, and the light showed his facepale, indeed, but full of returninghealth and life; his arm was still in asling, but his movements otherwisewere free and unrestrained.

"You're lookin' fust-rate," said Mr.Butters. "Some different from the last

time I see ye."

"I wonder what would have become ofme if you had not happened along justthen, Mr. Butters," said Geoffrey. "Ithink I owe you a great deal more thanyou are willing to acknowledge."

"Nothin' at all; nothin' at all!" said theold man, briskly. "I h'isted ye up out thero'd, that was all; I sh'd have had to h'istjest the same if ye'd be'n a critter or alawg, takin' up the hull ro'd the way yedid."

"And how about bringing me home,three miles out of your way, andcarrying me up-stairs, and all that I

suppose you would have done all thatfor a critter, eh "

"Wal depends upon the value of thecritter!" said Mr. Butters, with a twinkle."I never kep' none of mine up-stairs,but there's no knowin' these days offancy stock. No, young man! if there'sanybody for you to thank, it's thatyoung woman. Now there's a gal what'sher name I didn't gather it that day."

"Vesta Miss Vesta Blyth."

"I want to know! my fust wife's namewas Vesty; Vesty Barlow she was; yes,sir. I do'no' but I liked her best of anyof 'em. Not but what I've had good

ones since, but 'twas different then,seems' though. She was the ch'ice ofmy youth, ye see. Yes, sir; Vesty is agood name, and that's a good gal, if Iknow anything about gals. She's no kinto you, she said."

"No; none whatever."

"Nor yet you ain't keepin' companywith her "

"No-o!" cried Geoffrey, wincing.

"Ain't you asked her "

"No! please don't "

"Why not " demanded Mr. Butters, withample severity.

Geoffrey tried to laugh, and failed. "I Ican't talk about these things, Mr.Butters."

"Don't you want her " the old manwent on, pitilessly. Geoffrey looked upangrily; looked up, and met a look sokind and true and simple, that his angerdied, still-born.

"Yes!" he said. "God knows I do. Butyou are wholly mistaken in thinkingthat is she wouldn't have me."

"I expect she would!" said Ithuriel

Butters. "I expect that is jest what shewould have. I see her when you waslayin' there, all stove up; you might havebe'n barrel-staves, the way you looked. Isee her face, and I don't need to see nomore."

Geoffrey tried to say something aboutkindness and womanly pity, but thestrong old voice bore him down.

"I know what pity looks like, and Iknow the other thing. She's no soft-heart to squinch at the sight of blood,and that sort of foolery. Tell ye, she wasjest as quiet and cool as if 'twas achurch sociable, and she set that boneas easy and chirk as my woman would

take a pie out the oven; but when shehad you all piecened up, and stood andlooked at you wal, there!"

"Don't! I cannot let you!" criedGeoffrey. His voice was full of distress;but was it the western sun that madehis face so bright

"Wal, there's all kinds of fools," saidMr. Butters. "Got the teethache "

"Toothache no! why "

"Thought you hollered as if ye had.How would you go to work to cure theteethache now, s'posin' you had it "

"I should go to a dentist, and let himcure it for me."

"S'posin' you lived ten mile from adentist, young feller you're too used tosettin' in the middle of creation andjerkin' the reins for the hoss to go.Jonas E. Homer had the teethacheonce, bad."

He paused.

"Well," said the young doctor, "whowas Jonas E. Homer, and how did hecure his toothache "

"Jonas Elimelech was his full name,"said Mr. Butters, settling himself

comfortably in his chair. "He'sneighbour to me, about five miles outon the Buffy Landin' ro'd. Yes, he hadthe teethache bad. Wife wanted him togo and have 'em hauled, but he said hewouldn't have no feller goin' fishin' inhis mouth. No, sir! he went and hebored a hole in the northeast side of abeech-tree, and put in a hair of a yallerdawg, and then plugged up the holewith a pine plug. That was ten yearsago, and he's never had the teethachesence. He told me that himself."

"It's a good story," said the youngdoctor. "Do you believe it, Mr. Butters "

"Wal, I do'no' as I exactly believe it; I

was sort of illustratin' the differentkinds of fools there was in the world,that's all."

They were silent. The sun went down,but the light stayed in the youngdoctor's face.

* * * * *

There was a commotion in the roombelow. Voices were raised, femininevoices, shrill with excitement. Thencame a bustle on the stairs, and thesound of feet; then one voice,breathless but decided.

"I tell ye, I know the way. There's no

need to show me, and I won't have it. Ihaven't been up these stairs for nearseventy years, Phoebe, since the day ofyour caudle-party, but I know the wayas well as you do, and I'll thank you tostay where you are."

The next moment the door opened,and Mrs. Tree stood on the threshold,panting and triumphant. Her black eyestwinkled with affection and malice."Well, young sir!" she said, as Geoffreyran to give her his sound arm, and ledher in, and placed her in the seat ofhonour. "Fine doings since I last sawyou! Humph! you look pretty well,considering all. Who's this IthurielButters! How do you do, Ithuriel I

haven't seen you for forty years, but Ishould know you in the Fiji Islands."

"I should know you, too, anywhere,Mis' Tree!" responded Mr. Butters,heartily. "I'm rejoicin' glad to see ye."

"You wear well, Ithuriel," said Mrs.Tree, kindly. "If you would cut all thatmess of hair and beard, you would be agood-looking man still; but I didn'tcome here to talk to you."

She turned to Geoffrey in someexcitement. "I'll speak right out," shesaid. "Now's now, and next time's never.I've let the cat out of the bag. Phoebehas found out about little Vesta's

setting your arm and all, and she'sproper mad. Says she'll send the childhome to-morrow for good and all.She's getting on her shoes this minute; Inever could abide those moroccoshoes. She'll be up here in no time. Ithought I'd come up first and tell you."

She looked eagerly at the young doctor;but his eyes were fixed on the window,and he scarcely seemed to hear her.Following his gaze, she saw a whitedress glimmering against the soft duskof the garden shrubs.

The young doctor rose abruptly; tookone step; paused, and turned to hisguest of ninety years with a little

passionate gesture of appeal "I cannotleave you," he said; "unless just onemoment "

"My goodness gracious me!" cried Mrs.Tree. "Go this minute, child; run, doyou hear I'll take care of IthurielButters. He was in my Sunday-schoolclass, though he's only five yearsyounger than me. Take care and don'tfall!"

The last words were uttered in a smallshriek, for apparently there had beenbut one step to the staircase.

Breathless, the old woman turned andfaced the old man. "Have you got any

bumblebees in your pocket this time,Ithuriel " she asked.

"No,'m," said Ithuriel, soberly. Thenthey both stared out of the windowwith eyes that strove to be as young asthey were eager.

"There he comes, full chisel!" criedIthuriel Butters. "She don't see him.He's hollerin' to her. She's turnedround. I tell ye he's grabbed holt of herhand! he's grabbed holt of both herhands! he's "

Who says that heroism dies with youth

Marcia Tree raised her little mittedhand, and pulled down the blind.

"It's no business of yours or mine whathe's doing, Ithuriel Butters!" she said,with dignity.

Then she began to tremble. "Seventyyears ago," she said, "Ira Tree proposedto me in that very garden, under thatvery syringa-tree. I've been a widowfifty years, Ithuriel, and it seems likeyesterday." And a dry sob clicked in herthroat.

"I've buried two good wives," said Mr.Butters, "and my present one seems tobe failin' up some. I hope she'll live

now, I reelly do."

* * * * *

"Vesta!" Miss Phoebe's voice rang sharpand shrill through the house. MissVesta started. She was at her eveningpost in the upper hall. The lamp waslighted, the prayer had been said.

"Dear Lord, I beseech thee, protect allsouls at sea this night; for Jesus Christ'ssake. Amen!"

But Miss Vesta was not watching thesea this time. Her eyes, too, were bentdown upon the twilight garden. Thelamplight fell softly there, and threw

into relief the two figures pacing upand down, hand in hand, heart in heart.Miss Vesta could not hear, and wouldnot if she could have heard, the wordsher children were saying; her heart waslifted as high as heaven, in peace andjoy and thankfulness, and the wordsthat sounded in her ear were spoken bya voice long silent in death.

"Vesta!"

Miss Phoebe's voice rang sharp andshrill through the silent house. Instinctand habit answered the call at once."Yes, Sister Phoebe!"

"Stay where you are! I am coming to

you. I have discovered "

The figures below paused full in thelamplight. Two faces shone out, one allon fire with joy and wonder, the othersweet and white as the white flower ather breast.

Miss Phoebe's morocco shoes creakedaround the corner of the passage.

"Good Lord, forgive me, and save allsouls at sea just the same!" said MissVesta; and she blew out the lamp.

THE END