rage a new intimacy. But though he debated, he did not delay going
straight to the Callenders' and ringing the bell.

Agatha came to the door.

"Good-evening, Miss Agatha," he said, presuming so much on his old
friendship as to use her first name.

"Good-evening, Mr. Millard," said Agatha, in an embarrassed but austere
voice.

"I called to inquire after your sister. Knowing that she had been
exposed to diphtheria, I was afraid--" He paused here, remembering that
he no longer had any right to be afraid on her account.

Agatha did not wait for him to re-shape or complete his sentence. She
said, "Thank you. She has a sore throat, which makes us very uneasy.
Cousin Philip has just gone to see if he can get Dr. Gunstone."

When Millard had gone, Agatha told her mother that Charley had called.

"I am glad of it," said Mrs. Callender. "Did you ask him in?"

"Not I," said Agatha, with a high head. "If he wants to renew his
acquaintance with Phillida, he can do it without our asking him. I was
just as stiff as I could be with him, and I told him that Cousin Phil
had gone for the doctor. That'll be a thorn in his side, for he always
was a little jealous of Philip, I believe."

"Why, Agatha, I'm afraid you haven't done right. You oughtn't to be so
severe. For my part, I hope the engagement will be renewed. I am sick
and tired of having Phillida risk her life in the tenements. It was very
kind of Mr. Millard to call and inquire, I am sure."

"He ought to," said Agatha. "She got this dreadful disease taking care
of his relations. I don't want him to think we're dying to have him take
Phillida off our hands." Agatha's temper was ruffled by her anxiety at
Phillida's sickness. "I'm sure his high and mighty tone about Phillida's
faith-cures has worried her enough. Now just let him worry awhile."

Certainly, Agatha Callender's bearing toward him did not reassure
Millard. He thought she might have called him Charley; or if that was
not just the thing to do, she might have made her voice a little less
frosty. He could not get rid of a certain self-condemnation regarding
Phillida, and he conjectured that her family were disposed to condemn
him also. He thought they ought to consider how severely his patience
had been tried; but then they could not know how Phillida was talked
about. How could they ever imagine Meadows's brutal impertinence?

He was not clear regarding the nature of the change in Phillida's views.
Had she wholly