expect to have you paying me a visit on
foot, when we can come to a clearer understanding about my flower-beds."

"He says," returned the boy, turning an almost humbly devoted look on
Kemp, "that I must not think of gardening for some weeks. And so--and
so--"

"Yes?"

"And so," explained the doctor, briskly, "he is going to hold my
reins on our rounds, and imbibe a world of sunshine to expend on some
flowers--yours or mine, perhaps--by and by."

Bob's eyes were luminous with feeling as they rested on the dark,
bearded face of his benefactor.

"Now say all you have to say, and we'll be off," said Kemp, tucking in
the robe at Bob's side.

"I didn't have anything to say, sir; I came only to let her know."

"And I am so glad, Bob," said Ruth, smiling up into the boy's shy,
speaking eyes. People always will try to add to the comfort of a
convalescent, and Ruth, in turn, drew down the robe over the lad's
hands. As she did so, her cousin, Jennie Lewis, passed hurriedly by. Her
quick blue eyes took in to a detail the attitudes of the trio.

"Good-morning, Jennie," said Ruth, turning; "are you coming in?"

"Not now," bowing stiffly and hurrying on.

"Cabbage-rose."

Bob delivered himself of this sentiment as gently as if he had let fall
a pearl.

The doctor gave a quick look at Ruth, which she met, smiling.

"He cannot help his inspiration," she remarked easily, and stepped back
as the doctor pulled the reins.

"Come again, Bob," she called, and with a smile to Kemp she ran in.

"And I was going to say," continued Mary, as she re-entered the kitchen,
"that a speck of aig splashed on your cheek, Miss Ruth."

"Oh, Mary, where?"

"But not knowin' that you would see anybody, I didn't think to run after
you; so it's just this side your mouth, like if you hadn't wiped it good
after breakfast."

Ruth rubbed it off, wondering with vexation if the doctor had noticed
it. Truth to say, the doctor had noticed it, and naturally placed the
same passing construction on it that Mary had suggested. Not that the
little yellow splash occupied much of his attention. When he drove
off, all he thought of Ruth's appearance was that her braided hair hung
gracefully and heavily down her back; that she looked young,--decidedly
young and missish; and that he had probably spoken indiscreetly and
impulsively to the wrong person on a wrong subject the night before.

Dress has a subtile influence upon our actions: one gown can make a