colored slightly and turned to Doctor John.

"You go please, doctor, and bring them all in, or you may have some new
patients on your hands."

The doctor looked from one to the other in doubt as to the cause of his
selection, but Jane's face showed none of the anxiety in Martha's.

"Yes, certainly," he answered simply; "but I'll get myself into a
hornet's nest. These young people don't like to be told what's good for
them," he added with a laugh, rising from his seat. "And after that
you'll permit me to slip away without telling anybody, won't you? My
last minute has come," and he glanced at his watch.

"Going so soon? Why, I wanted you to stay for supper. It will be ready
in a few minutes." Her voice had lost its buoyancy now. She never
wanted him to go. She never let him know it, but it pained her all the
same.

"I would like to, but I cannot." All his heart was in his eyes as he
spoke.

"Someone ill?" she asked.

"Yes, Fogarty's child. The little fellow may develop croup before
morning. I saw him to-day, and his pulse was not right, he's a sturdy
little chap with a thick neck, and that kind always suffers most. If
he's worse Fogarty is to send word to my office," he added, holding out
his hand in parting.

"Can I help?" Jane asked, retaining the doctor's hand in hers as if to
get the answer.

"No, I'll watch him closely. Good-night," and with a smile he bent his
head and withdrew.

Martha followed the doctor to the outer door, and then grumbling her
satisfaction went back to the pantry to direct the servants in
arranging upon the small table in the supper-room the simple
refreshments which always characterized the Cobdens' entertainments.

Soon the girls and their beaux came trooping in to join their elders on
the way to the supper-room. Lucy hung back until the last (she had not
liked the doctor's interference), Jane's long red cloak draped from her
shoulders, the hood hanging down her back, her cheeks radiant, her
beautiful blond hair ruffled with the night wind, an aureole of gold
framing her face. Bart followed close behind, a pleased, almost
triumphant smile playing about his lips.

He had carried his point. The cluster of blossoms which had rested upon
Lucy's bosom was pinned to the lapel of his coat.

CHAPTER III

LITTLE TOD FOGARTY

With the warmth of Jane's parting grasp lingering in his own Doctor
John untied the mare, sprang into his gig, and was soon clear of the
village and