,
you never will be quite well."

"I will take care of my health."

He looked into my face attentively.

"You wont--you can't. Did you ever notice your temperament?"

"No, never; what is it?"

"How old are you?"

"Eighteen, and four months."

"Is it possible? How backward you are! You are quite interesting."

"When may I get up?"

"Next week; don't drink coffee. Remember to live in the day. Avoid
stirring about in the night, as you would avoid Satan. Sleep, sleep
then, and you'll make that beauty of yours last longer."

"Am I a beauty? No living creature ever said so before."

"Adipose beauty."

"Fat?"

"No; not that exactly. Good-day."

He came again, and asked me questions concerning my father and mother;
what my grandparents died of; and whether any of my family were
strumous. He struck me as being very odd.

My school friends were attentive, but I only admitted Helen Perkins to
see me. Her liking for me opened my heart still more toward her. She
was my first intimate friend--and my last. Though younger than I, she
was more experienced, and had already passed through scenes I knew
nothing of, which had sobered her judgment, and given her feelings a
practical tinge. She was noted for having the highest spirits of any
girl in school--another result of her experiences. She never allowed
them to appear fluctuating; she was, therefore, an aid to me, whose
moods varied.

After my illness came a sense of change. I had lost that careless
security in my strength which I had always possessed, and was troubled
with vague doubts, that made me feel I needed help from without.

I did not see Charles while I was ill, for he was absent most of the
time. I knew when he was at home by the silence which pervaded the
premises. When he was not there, Alice spread the children in all
directions, and the servants gave tongue.

He was not at home the day I went downstairs, and I missed him,
continually asking myself, "Why do I?" As I sat with Alice in the
garden-room, I said, "Alice." She looked up from her sewing. "I am
thinking of Charles."

"Yes. He will be glad to see you again."

"Is he really related to me?"

"He told you so, did he not? And his name certainly is Morgeson."

"But we are wholly unlike, are we not?"

"Wholly; but why do you ask?"

"He influences me so strongly."

"Influences you?" she echoed.

"Yes"; and, with an effort, "I believe I influence him."

"You are very handsome," she sai