broken?"

Doctor Ralph came back and sat down on the bed beside her. He had that
rare sympathy which is the inestimable gift of the physician, and long
years of practice had not yet calloused him so that a suffering
fellow-mortal was merely a "case". His heart, was dangerously tender
toward her.

"Lots of things are worse than broken ankles," he assured her. "Has it
been so bad to be shut up here, away from Aunt Hitty?"

"No," said the truthful Araminta. "I have always been with Aunt Hitty,
and it seems queer, but very nice. Someway, I feel as if I had grown
up."

"Has Miss Evelina been good to you?"

"Oh, so good," returned Araminta, gratefully. "Why?"

"Because," said Ralph, concisely, "if she hadn't been, I'd break her
neck."

"You couldn't," whispered Araminta, softly, "you're too kind. You
wouldn't hurt anybody."

"Not unless I had to. Sometimes there has to be a little hurt to keep
away a greater one."

"You hurt me, I think, but I didn't know just when. It was the smelly,
sweet stuff, wasn't it?"

Ralph did not heed the question. He was wondering what would become of
Araminta when she went back to Miss Mehitable's, as she soon must. Her
ankle was healing nicely and in a very short time she would be able to
walk again. He could not keep her there much longer. By a whimsical
twist of his thought, he perceived that he was endeavouring to wrap
Araminta in cotton wool of a different sort, to prevent Aunt Hitty from
wrapping her in her own particular brand.

"The little cat," said Araminta, fondly. "I thought perhaps it would
come to-day. Is it coming when I am well?"

"Holy Moses!" ejaculated Ralph. He had never thought of the kitten
again, and the poor child had been waiting patiently, with never a
word. The clear grey eyes were upon him, eloquent with belief.

"The little cat," replied Ralph, shamelessly perjuring himself, "was
not old enough to leave its mother. We'll have to wait until to-morrow
or next day. I was keeping it for a surprise; that's why I didn't say
anything about it. I thought you'd forgotten."

"Oh, no! When I go back home, you know, I can't have it. Aunt Hitty
would never let me."

"Won't she?" queried Ralph. "We'll see!"

He spoke with confidence he was far from feeling, and was dimly aware
that Araminta had the faith he lacked. "She thinks I'm a
wonder-worker," he said to himself, grimly, "and I've got to live up to
it."

It was not necessary to c