ke her to be tired. She
doesn't seem to want anybody near her, but you can sit in the garden
this afternoon, if you'd like to, and I'll flit in and out like an
industrious butterfly. Some new books have just come, and I'll leave
them in the arbour for you."

"All right, dear, and if there's anything I can do, I hope you'll tell
me."

As they approached the house, a brisk little man hurried out of the gate
and went toward the village.

"Who's that?" asked Winfield.

"I don't know--some one who has brought something, probably. I trust
she's better."

Miss Ainslie seemed more like herself, as she moved about the house,
dusting and putting the rooms in order, as was her wont. At noon she
fried a bit of chicken for Ruth, but took nothing herself except a cup
of tea.

"No, deary," she said, in answer to Ruth's anxious question, "I'm all
right--don't fret about me." "Have you any pain, Miss Ainslie?"

"No, of course I haven't, you foolish child!"

She tried to smile, but her white lips quivered pitifully.

In the afternoon, when she said she was cold, Ruth made a fire in the
open fireplace, and wheeled Miss Ainslie's favourite chair in front of
it. She drew her shawl about her shoulders and leaned back.

"I'm so comfortable, now," she said drowsily; "I think I'm going to
sleep, dear."

Ruth sat by her, pretending to read, but, in reality, watching her
closely, until the deep, regular breathing assured her that she was
asleep. She went out into the garden and found Winfield in the arbour.

"How's this patient?" she asked, kissing him lightly on the forehead.

"I'm all right, dearest," he answered, drawing her down beside him, "and
I'm ashamed of myself because I was so foolish."

During the afternoon Ruth made frequent trips to the house, each time
finding Miss Ainslie sound asleep. It was after six o'clock when she
woke and rubbed her eyes, wonderingly.

"How long have I been asleep, Ruth?"

"All the afternoon, Miss Ainslie--do you feel better now?"

"Yes, I think I do. I didn't sleep last night, but it's been years since
I've taken a nap in the daytime."

Ruth invited Carl to supper, and made them both sit still while she
prepared the simple meal, which, as he said, was "astonishingly good."
He was quite himself again, but Miss Ainslie, though trying to assume
her old manner, had undergone a great change.

Carl helped Ruth with the dishes, saying he supposed he might as well
become accustomed to it, a