your own lunch."

Araminta assented and continued her work. She never questioned her
aunt's dictates, and this was why there was no friction between the two.

When Miss Mehitable came back, however, half buried under the mountain
of bedding, she was greeted by a portentous silence. Hurrying
upstairs, she discovered that Araminta had fallen from the ladder and
was in a white and helpless heap on the floor, while Miss Evelina
chafed her hands and sprinkled her face with water.

"For the land's sake!" cried Miss Hitty. "What possessed Minty to go
and fall off the ladder! Help me pick her up, Evelina, and we'll lay
her on the bed in the room we've just cleaned. She'll come to
presently. She ain't hurt."

But Araminta did not "come to." Miss Mehitable tried everything she
could think of, and fairly drenched the girl with cold water, without
avail.

"What did it?" she demanded with some asperity. "Did she see anything
that scared her?"

"No," answered Miss Evelina, shrinking farther back into her veil. "I
was downstairs and heard her scream, then she fell and I ran up. It
was just a minute or two before you came in."

"Well," sighed Miss Hitty, "I suppose we'll have to have a doctor. You
fix that bed with the clean things I brought. It's easy to do it
without movin' her after the under sheet is on and I'll help you with
that. Don't pour any more cold water on her. If water would have
brung her to she'd be settin' up by now. And don't get scared. Minty
ain't hurt."

With this comforting assurance, Miss Hitty sped down-stairs, but her
mind was far from at rest. At the gate she stopped, suddenly
confronted by the fact that she could not bring Anthony Dexter to
Evelina's house.

"What'll I do!" moaned Miss Hitty. "What'll I do! Minty'll die if she
ain't dead now!"

The tears rolled down her wrinkled cheeks, but she ran on, as fast as
her feet would carry her, toward Doctor Dexter's. "The way'll be
opened," she thought--"I'm sure it will."

The way was opened in an unexpected fashion, for Doctor Ralph Dexter
answered Miss Hitty's frantic ring at his door.

"I'd clean forgotten you," she stammered, wholly taken aback. "I don't
believe you're anything but a play doctor, but, as things is, I reckon
you'll have to do."

Doctor Ralph Dexter threw back his head and laughed--a clear, ringing
boyish laugh which was very good to hear.

"'Play doctor' is good," he said, "when anybody's worked as much