s in her way. I do not know what advice to give you just now, but she
must not leave you. That must be considered as settled. I am coming to
your house to-morrow afternoon, and please ask Mrs. Tolbridge to be at
home. We shall then see what is to be done."

"There is nothing to be done," said the doctor, rising. "We cannot
improve the circumstances of the Dranes, and we cannot prevent La Fleur
from going to them if her feelings prompt her to do it."

"Stuff!" said the old lady. "There is always something to be done. The
trouble is, there is not always some one to do it; but, fortunately for
some of my friends, I am alive yet."

CHAPTER XVI

"KEEP HER TO HELP YOU"

It was about ten o'clock the next morning when Miss Panney drove over to
Cobhurst in her phaeton. She did not go up to the house, but tied her
roan mare behind a clump of locust trees and bushes, where the animal
might stand in peace and shade. Then she walked around the house, and
hearing the clatter of crockery in the basement, she looked down through
a kitchen window, and saw Mike washing the breakfast dishes.

Going on toward the back of the house, she heard voices and laughter over
in the garden. Behind a tangled mass of raspberries, she saw a pink
sunbonnet and a straw hat with daisies in it. She knew, then, that Dora
and Miriam were picking berries, and then her eyes and ears began to
search for Ralph.

She went up on the back piazza and looked over toward the barn, which
appeared to be closed, and around and about the house, but saw nothing
of the young man. But she would wait; it was scarcely likely that he was
at work in the fields by himself. He would probably appear soon, and, if
possible, she wanted to speak to him before she saw any one else. She
went into the house, and took a seat in the hall, where, through a
narrow window by the side of the door, she had a good view of the garden
and the grounds at the back, and could also command the front entrance
of the house.

Miss Panney had been seated but a very few minutes when the two girls
emerged from the bosky intricacies of the garden.

"Upon my word!" exclaimed the old lady, "she has got on Judith Pacewalk's
teaberry gown. I could never forget that!"

At this moment there was a clatter of hoofs and a rattle of wheels, and a
brown horse, drawing a very loose-jointed wagon, with Ralph Haverley, in
a broad hat and light tennis jacket, driving, dashed up to the back door
and stop