table sort of body, that young doctor," said a
poor washerwoman, suffering from a scalded arm, as Doctor Mayne made
her rounds alone one morning. "She is that chatty and sociable that I
forget the pain while she is about, and it would do your heart good to
see how she do cozy up the place before she leaves it."

Doctor Mayne repeated this to Alida. "You are getting on bravely with
your definitions," she said, with an approving pat on her shoulder.

"What do you think of 'Alida's fad' now?" she asked Mrs. Gooding,
several months later. It was a dull December day, and she had called
for a hasty visit.

"My dear Agnes," said Mrs. Gooding, "we are simply delighted! It has
waked her up and made a different creature of her. She is almost as
easy and sociable with May's friends now as May is herself. Yesterday
afternoon half a dozen of them came in with May to get warm after a
long sleigh-ride. Alida prepared a delicious little chafing-dish lunch
for them, and made herself so agreeable and entertaining that I was
really surprised.

"I thought that she looked almost pretty, too. Her complexion is so
clear now, since she has put to such good use what she has learned
about hygiene. She looked so bright and animated, laughing and
talking there in the firelight, that it did not seem possible she had
ever been a cold, reticent girl, who always repelled people."

One morning, not long after this conversation, the family were
surprised by Ben Fuller's driving up in his sleigh soon after
breakfast, and asking for Alida. They were all in the library, and he
announced his errand without taking a seat. "My sister Ada--Mrs.
Cranford, you know--is very anxious for you to come over for a little
while. She was so prostrated yesterday by the shock of what happened
in her absence that she couldn't talk coherently to you then; but she
feels that she must see you for a few moments, if possible, and she is
unable to come out this morning. May I take you over in my sleigh?"

Alida, showing no trace of surprise at the message, rose at once to go
up-stairs for her hat, but Mrs. Gooding plied him with astonished
questions.

"Is it possible that she has not told you?" he exclaimed. "My sister
is spending the winter here with her little daughter Doris. We all
idolise the child, and she is never left alone a moment. But yesterday
we were all out of town at a wedding, and Doris had to be left with
only the nurse. Nobody will ever know how it happe