or on the river, or in taking long rides on a
young horse; a bargain the doctor had somewhat repented before he
found that Nan was helped through some of her troubled hours by the
creature's wildness and fleetness. It was very plain that his ward was
adrift, and at first the doctor suggested farther study of Latin or
chemistry, but afterward philosophically resigned himself to patience,
feeling certain that some indication of the right course would not be
long withheld, and that a wind from the right quarter would presently
fill the flapping sails of this idle young craft and send it on its
way.

One afternoon Nan went hurrying out of the house just after dinner,
and the doctor saw that her face was unusually troubled. He had asked
her if she would like to drive with him to a farm just beyond the
Dyers' later in the day, but for a wonder she had refused. Dr. Leslie
gave a little sigh as he left the table, and presently watched her go
down the street as he stood by the window. It would be very sad if the
restlessness and discord of her poor mother should begin to show
themselves again; he could not bear to think of such an inheritance.

But Nan thought little of anybody else's discomforts as she hurried
along the road; she only wished to get to the beloved farm, and to be
free there from questions, and from the evidences of her unfitness for
the simple duties which life seemed offering her with heartless irony.
She was not good for anything after all, it appeared, and she had been
cheating herself. This was no life at all, this fretful idleness; if
only she had been trained as boys are, to the work of their lives! She
had hoped that Dr. Leslie would help her; he used to talk long ago
about her studying medicine, but he must have forgotten that, and the
girl savagely rebuked society in general for her unhappiness. Of
course she could keep the house, but it was kept already; any one with
five senses and good health like hers could prove herself able to do
any of the ordinary work of existence. For her part it was not enough
to be waited upon and made comfortable, she wanted something more, to
be really of use in the world, and to do work which the world needed.

Where the main road turned eastward up the hills, a footpath, already
familiar to the reader, shortened the distance to the farm, and the
young girl quickly crossed the rude stile and disappeared among the
underbrush, walking bareheaded with the swift steps of