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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
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