back, and, following her, a
young man.

Alexina recognized him at once as the young doctor she had seen going
in and out the cottage, and whose name she remembered was Ransome.

Harriet arose to meet him. He was young and boyish and looked
unnerved. "The others will be down in a moment--the other doctors"--he
told her; "when I saw it was bad--you know I'm just beginning--I
turned it over."

His nice blue eyes looked quite distressed.

"How bad?" asked Harriet steadily.

He looked at her quite miserably, the boy, then gathered himself
together.

"May I ask--I beg pardon--may I know who I am talking to?" though true
to tell he knew who she was, living as he did across from her, but in
his young embarrassment did not know how to say so.

The tall, beautiful woman stood a moment before him, then a slow
colour came up over her throat and face. "I am Miss Blair--Major
Rathbone is--"

Alexina had come close to her side and her young eyes were on the
doctor's appealingly.

He understood; doubtless he had heard the two names connected before;
the affairs of the wealthy Miss Blair and the somewhat famous editor
were likely to be talked over in a city the size of Louisville, or,
perhaps, being young, he merely divined. His distress increased; he
looked quite wretched. "It's bad--I'm mighty sorry to be the one to
tell you."

Did she grow taller, whiter? "Are you--are the doctors still--"

"They are through for the present and coming down now."

"Then I will go to him. Oh, but I must"--this to the horrified little
Sister's upraised hands of protest and headshake of negation.

"It's against all rules," ejaculated the little Sister.

Miss Blair addressed herself to the young doctor.

"Kindly take me to the room," she said.

The abashed young fellow looked from one to the other. But he started.
The little Sister, however, hastily interposing herself between Miss
Blair and progress, was heard to murmur that name of authority--the
Mother.

"Go and bring her," said Harriet.

The Sister departed in haste, to return speedily with the Mother, her
calm face beneath its bands mild, benignant, but inexorable.

"But I am," returned Harriet to anything she could say. "I am going to
him."

The dominant calmness of the Mother had met its equal. Finally, in her
turn, she retreated behind authority and mentioned Father Ryan.

"Oh," said Harriet, "go and bring him."

He came, heavy of jowl, keen and humorous of eye, but