or the
moment so as to stand almost erect like a crest. Her small nose had an
engaging skyward tilt. She was dark and inclined to sallowness. But
the twinkling black eyes under the level brows would have redeemed a
far plainer face. Had Joel been of a poetic temperament he would have
compared Betty to a pink rose-bud, and Celia to a velvety pansy, saucy
and bewitching.

Mary, coming up the stairs with a bowl of broth, stood in the doorway
petrified. Under her spatter of freckles, her comely face was pale.

"Miss Dale thought--" She seemed unable to proceed and stood
swallowing. Celia straightened herself with a jerk.

"Oh, goody! We'll play tea-party, Uncle Joel. No, we'll play mother.
You're my little sick boy, Uncle Joel, and I'll feed you. Give that to
me, Mary."

Like a person hypnotized Mary advanced and delivered the steaming broth
into Celia's extended hands. Setting the bowl firmly on one knee,
Celia ladled out a generous spoonful.

"Open your mouth, darling, and swallow this nice broth. It'll make
mama's little boy a big strong man."

The soup-spoon journeying in Joel's direction tilted dangerously. Half
the contents splashed upon his cheek and ran in a greasy dribble down
his neck. The remainder distributed itself impartially in the vicinity
of his mouth, a few tantalizing drops finding their way between his
parted lips.

"Land alive!" Mary made a horrified forward rush. "You're a-drowning
Mr. Dale. And look at you, wasting that nice soup, too."

Joel frowned and Mary drew back abashed, quailing before his
disapproving glance.

"I guess if I was being drowned I'd have the sense to mention it. And
nobody's going to the poor-house because a little soup gets spilled.
Some of the professions are pretty crowded, Mary, but there's one where
there's room at the top and at the bottom, too, and that's the one of
minding your own business."

Poor Mary blushed till her proximity to things inflammable would have
awakened justifiable fears of a conflagration. Joel gave his attention
to his self-appointed nurse. "Steady now! Better take a little less
to start with. That's right. Now steer her straight."

The second spoonful reached its destination without serious accident.
Celia watched her patient as he swallowed and forgot the role she had
assigned herself.

"Is it good, Uncle Joel?"

"Uhuh! Pretty fair." Joel felt for his handkerchief and wiped the
moist corner of his mouth.