uted to him. However, clergyman as
he was, he had a good deal of the doctor about him, and he had seen so
much of sickness and disease during his long years of hard work among
the poor that he was after all about as ready an observer and as good a
judge as Brian could have selected.

Erica, leaning back in the great easy chair, which had been moved into
summer quarters beside the window, heard the slow soft step she had
learned to know so well, and before she had time to get up, found her
hand in Charles Osmond's strong clasp.

"How comfortable your chair is," she said, smiling; "I believe I was
nearly asleep."

He looked at her attentively, but without appearing to study her face in
any way. She was very pale and there was an indefinable look of pain in
her eyes.

"Any news of the examination?" he asked, sitting down opposite her.

"No, it is too soon yet," she replied. "I thought I should have felt
so anxious about it, but do you know, now that it is over, I can't make
myself care a bit. If I have failed altogether, I don't believe I shall
mind very much."

"Too tired to care for anything?"

"Yes, I seem to have come to the end. I wish I were a watch, and could
run down and rest for a few days and be wound up again."

He smiled. "What have you been doing with yourself to get so tired?"

"Oh, nothing particular; it has been rather a long day. Let me see! In
the morning there were two delegates from Rilchester who had to be
kept in a good temper till my father was ready for them; then there was
father's bag to be packed, and a rush to get him off in time for
the morning express to Longstaff. Then I went to a lecture at South
Kensington, and then by train to Aldersgate Street to see Hazeldine's
wife, who is unconscionable enough to live at the top of one of the
model lodging houses. Then she told me of another of our people whose
child is ill, and they lived in another row of Compton buildings up
a hundred more steps, which left my back nearly broken. And the poor
little child was fearfully ill, and it is so dreadful to see pain you
can do nothing for; it has made me feel wretched ever since. Then--let
me think--oh, I got home and found Aunt Jean with a heap of circulars to
get off, and there was a great rush to get them ready by post time."

She paused; Charles Osmond withdrew his eyes from the careful scrutiny
of her face, and noticed the position she had taken up in his chair.
She was leaning back with her