egarde Grahame sat down, and leaning her head on her mother's
shoulder, burst into tears.

"Exactly!" said the good doctor. "The best thing you could do, my child!
Do you want to hear the rest now, or shall I leave it for your mother to
tell?"

"Let her hear it all from you, Doctor," said Mrs. Grahame. "It will do
her more good than anything else."

Hildegarde looked up and nodded, and smiled through her tears.

"Well," said the cheerful physician, "Miss Angel (her own name is an
impossibility, and does not belong to her) has really borne the
operation wonderfully. Marvellously!" he repeated. "The constitution,
you see, was originally good. There was a foundation to work upon; that
means everything, in a case like this. Now all that she requires is to
be built up,--built up! Beef tea, chicken broth, wine jelly, and as
soon as practicable, fresh air and exercise,--there is your programme,
Miss Hildegarde; I think I can depend upon you to carry it out."

The girl stretched out her hand, which he grasped warmly. "Dear, good
doctor!" she said; whereupon the physician growled, and went and looked
out of the window.

"And how soon will she be able to walk?" asked the happy Hildegarde,
drying her eyes and smiling through the joyful tears. "And when may I
see her, Doctor? and how does she look, Mamma darling?"

"_Place aux dames!_" said the Doctor. "You may answer first, Mrs.
Grahame, though your question came last."

"Dear, she looks like a white rose!" replied Mrs. Grahame. "She is
sleeping quietly, with no trace of pain on her sweet face. Her breathing
is as regular as a baby's; all the nurses are coming on tiptoe to look
at her, and they all say, 'Bless her!' when they move away."

"My turn now," said Dr. Flower. "You may see her, Miss Hildegarde, the
day after to-morrow, if all goes well, as I am tolerably sure it will;
and she will be able to walk--well, say in a month."

"Oh! a month!" cried Hildegarde, dolefully. "Do you mean that she cannot
walk at all till then, Doctor?"

"Why, Hilda!" said Mrs. Grahame, in gentle protest. "Pink has not walked
for fourteen years, remember; surely a month is a very short time for
her to learn in."

"I suppose so," said the girl, still looking disappointed, however.

"Oh, she will _begin_ before that!" said Dr. Flower. "She will begin in
ten days, perhaps. Little by little, you know,--a step at a time. In a
fortnight she may go out to drive; in fact, carriage exercise wil