let time and circumstances settle that."

The doctor reached home about eleven o'clock.

"What do you think it would be better to do," he said to his wife, when
he had made his report, "to stop at Mrs. Drane's as I go out this
afternoon, or to tell Cicely about our Cobhurst scheme, and let her tell
her mother?"

"The thing to do," said Mrs. Tolbridge, closing her desk, at which she
was writing, "is for me to go and see Mrs. Drane immediately, and for you
to send Cicely home and give her a lot of work to do at Cobhurst. They
should go there this afternoon."

"Yes," said the doctor; "of course, the sooner the better; but it has
struck me perhaps it might be well to mention the matter to Miss Panney
before the Dranes actually leave Mrs. Brinkly. You know she was very
active in procuring that place for them."

Mrs. Tolbridge looked at her husband, gave a little sigh, and then
smiled.

"What is your opinion of a bird," she asked, "who, flying to the shelter
of the woods, thinks it would be a good idea to stop for a moment and
look down the gun-barrel of a sportsman, to see what is there?"

The doctor looked at her for a moment and then, catching her point, gave
her a hearty laugh for answer, and walking to his table, took up a sheet
of manuscript and carried it to the room where Miss Drane was working.

"The passage which so puzzled you," he said, "has been deciphered by Mrs.
Tolbridge and myself, and reads thus: 'The philosophy of physiological
contrasts grows.'"

"Why, yes," said Cicely, looking at the paper; "now that you tell me
what it is, it is as plain as can be. I will write it in the blank space
that I have left, and here are some more words that I would like to ask
you about."

"Not now, not now," said the doctor. "I want you to stop work and run
home. As soon as I can I will talk with you about what you have written,
and give you some more of the manuscript. But no more work for to-day.
You must hurry to your mother. You will find Mrs. Tolbridge there,
talking to her about a change of quarters."

"Another holiday!" exclaimed Cicely, in surprise.

She was a girl who worked earnestly and conscientiously with the
intention of earning every cent of the money which was paid to her, and
these successive intermissions of work seemed to her unbusiness-like. But
she made no objections, and, putting away her papers, with a sigh, for
she had a list of points about which she was ready and anxious to consult
the