ned her toast just this morning," said Charlotte, quickly. "And
poached the egg too hard. Lanse says the coffee is better, but--oh, no
matter--I'm just discouraged this morning, I--shall learn something some
time, perhaps, but----" She turned away impulsively. Doctor Churchill
followed her a step or two.

"See here, Miss Charlotte," he said, "how many times have you been out
of the house since your sister was hurt?"

"Not at all," owned Charlotte, "except evenings, after everything is
done. Then I steal out and run round and round the house in the
moonlight, just running it off, you know--or maybe you don't know."

"Yes, I do. Will you do something now if I ask you to very humbly?"

Charlotte looked at him doubtfully. "If you mean go for a walk--which is
what doctors always mean, I believe--I haven't time."

Doctor Churchill looked at his watch. "It is half past ten. Is that
chicken for luncheon?"

"No, for supper--or dinner--I don't know just what it is we have at
night now. I simply began to get it ready this morning because I hadn't
the least idea in the world how long it takes to cook a chicken." She
was smiling a little at the absurdity of her own words.

"And you didn't want to ask your sister?"

"I meant to surprise her."

"Well, of one thing I am fairly confident," said Doctor Churchill, with
gravity. "If you take a run down as far as the old bridge and back,
there will still be time to see to the chicken. What is more, by the
time you get back, all big obstacles will look like little ones to you.
Go, please. I am to be in the office for the next hour, and if the house
catches fire I will run over and put it out. I could even undertake to
steal in the back door and put coal on the kitchen fire, if it is
necessary."

"It won't be."

"Then will you go?"

"Perhaps--to humour you," promised Charlotte.

"Thank you! And remember, please, Miss Charlotte, if you are to do
justice to yourself and to your family, you must not plod all the time.
Plan to get away every day for an hour or two. Go to see your
friends--anything--but don't cultivate 'house nerves' at eighteen."

"I'm older than that," said Charlotte, as she watched him go down the
steps. He turned, surprised. "But I shall not tell you how much," said
she, and closed the door.

Doctor Churchill went straight through his small bachelor house to the
kitchen. Here a tall, thin woman, with sharp eyes and kindly mouth, was
energetically kneading br