d--and Uncle Theodore to--get out! I'm
going to find where they buried him, and make that a beautiful place too.
You see I've a good deal to do up here! Besides," and now the cheerful
face beamed radiantly on the gaping postmaster, "I'm like Uncle Starr in
more ways than one. He learned to mend men's souls and I have learned to
mend their bodies--it's much the same, you know--when you love it.
I'm--well, I'm an M. D., a medical doctor--Doctor Marcia Lowe!"

At this Greeley dropped on the bottom step of the porch, wiped the
perspiration from his brow with the back of his hand, and emitted one
word.

"Gawd!" He was not a profane man, but the audacity of this stranger who
was about to settle down among them for purposes best known to herself,
and them who sent her, quite overcame him. Marcia Lowe gave a hearty
laugh and gathered the reins.

"I suppose you never heard of such a thing up here?" she asked amusedly,
"but they are getting commoner down where I hail from. It's all very
foolish--the restrictions about a woman, you know. She can nurse a body
up to the doors of death, but it's taken a good while to bring people
around to seeing that she can mend a body as well, just as well as a man.
You will let me stay among you anyway, I am sure. I do not want to
physic you. It is so much more interesting to live close and help along.
Good-bye, Mr. Greeley--you see your name is over the door! I am, do not
forget"--the woman's eyes twinkled mischievously--"Doctor Marcia Lowe of
Torrance, Mass. Good-bye! You have been very kind and helpful. I feel
that you and I will be good friends. Get-up, pony!"

She flapped the reins in the most unprofessional manner, and the horse
turned to The Appointed Way with briskness that bespoke his impatience
and a desire for more familiar scenes.

With curious eyes Greeley watched the ramshackle buggy bounce up and down
over the rutty road; he saw the small, slight figure bob about
uncomfortably on the uneven seat, and when the conveyance was lost behind
the trees he went inside with a sure sense that something was going to
happen in The Hollow.

Once again within his own domain he sought his cracker box as if it were
his sanctuary. The fly was still protesting against the dirty window,
and the stillness, except for the buzzing, was unbroken.

Presently, from out the nowhere apparently, old Andrew Townley came in
and shuffled across the floor to the armchair by the stove. Then