n room. I am sure you will be better
satisfied if you know that."

Ralph looked his thanks, and softly, but quickly, she went up the stairs.
At a little landing she stopped.

"Do you know," she whispered, looking back, with the candle throwing her
head and hair into the prettiest lights and shadows, "I think this
stairway is lovely;" and then she went on and disappeared.

In a few minutes she leaned over the upper part of the banisters and
softly spoke to him.

"She is sleeping as sweetly and as quietly as the dearest of angels. I do
not believe I shall disturb her in the least. Good-night, Mr. Haverley."
And with her face thrown into a new light,--this time by the hall lamp
below,--she smiled ever so sweetly, and then drew back her head. In half
a minute it reappeared. She was right; he was still looking up.

"I forgot to say," she whispered, "that all the windows in Miriam's room
are open. Do you think she was too sleepy to notice that, or is she
accustomed to so much night air?"

"I really do not know," said Ralph, in reply.

"Very well, then," said Dora; "I will attend to all that in my own way.
Good-night again, Mr. Haverley;" and with a little nod and a smile, she
withdrew her face from his view.

If she had come back within the next minute, she would have found him
still looking up. She felt quite sure of this, but she could think of no
good reason for another reappearance.

Ralph lighted a pipe and sat down on the piazza. He looked steadily in
front of him, but he saw no grass, no trees, no moonlighted landscape, no
sky of summer night. He saw only the face of a young girl, leaning over
and looking down at him from the top of a stairway. It was the face of a
girl who was so gentle, so thoughtful for others, so quick to perceive,
so quick to do; who was so fond of his sister, and so beautiful. He sat
and thought of the wondrous good fortune that had brought this girl
beneath his roof, and had given him these charming hours with her.

And when his pipe was out, he arose, declared to himself that, no matter
what the doctor might think of it, he would not wait another minute for
him, and went to bed,--his mind very busy with the anticipation of the
charming hours which were to come on the morrow.

CHAPTER XV

MISS PANNEY IS AROUSED TO HELP AND HINDER

When Dr. Tolbridge returned from the visit to the patient who lived
beyond Cobhurst, he did not drive into the latter place, for seeing
Mike by