tle care and prudence in regard to your leg I am sure that you
can reach home quite safely.

With kindest regards,
Very sincerely yours,
JOHN GRANT.

I stared at Daddy, hardly knowing what to say.

"That boy has a lot of good sound horse-sense!" he exclaimed. "I am just
going to follow his advice. Bring me my check-book. I am going to make
out something for that little parson. He needs a place to give the folks
what he calls readings, and other things. He told me that two-fifty would
give him unutterable joy. I'll make it five hundred so that he can shout.
Now in regard to Dr. Grant...."

"Are we really going to-morrow, Daddy?" I interrupted.

"You bet we are going to-morrow, always providing that yacht of ours is
ready. I gave orders yesterday to have something done and...."

But I didn't listen any more. I went to the window and drew aside the
little curtain. Down below, in the cove, I could see the _Snowbird's_
anchor light, gleaming brilliantly. The windows of some of the houses
shed a sickly pale radiance, but beyond this everything was in darkness,
with just the faintest suggestion of enormous masses representing the
jagged cliffs. There was not a single star in the heavens, and all at
once everything seemed to be plunged in desolation. It felt as when one
awakes in the darkness from some beautiful dream. I knew then that I
would be actually home-sick for Sweetapple Cove when I returned to New
York.

Please don't laugh at me, Aunt Jennie dear, you know I have had no one
but you to confide in since I have grown out of short skirts. Perhaps
it was this thing I saw in Atkins' house that has upset me so, and I
suppose that my life has always been too easy, and that I have not been
prepared to meet some of the grim horrors it can reveal to one.

I could not think of leaving without saying good-by to Mrs. Barnett. My
hand shook as I pushed a hatpin through my cap. Then I told Daddy where I
was going and ran out into the darkness.

When I reached the poor little house they insist on calling the rectory
the dear woman opened her arms to greet me, and I saw that her beautiful
eyes were filled with tears.

"What is the matter, dear?" I asked.

"I was a coward to-day," she cried. "Such an awful coward! I had no
business to leave when Dr. Grant told me to. I should have stayed and
helped. But when he spoke of diphtheria I couldn't help it and thought of
my little chaps. I have already seen that dreadful thing co