.

Ralph laughed to himself all the way upstairs but in the hall he paused
and his face grew grave again. From Araminta's room came the sound of
sobbing.

She did not see him enter, for her face was hidden in her pillow.
"Araminta!" said Ralph, tenderly, "You poor child."

Touched by the unexpected sympathy, Araminta raised her head to look at
him. "Oh Doctor--" she began,

"Doctor Ralph," said the young man, sitting down on the bed beside her.
"My father is Doctor Dexter and I am Doctor Ralph."

"I'm ashamed of myself for being such a baby," sobbed Araminta. "I
didn't mean to cry."

"You're not a baby at all," said Doctor Ralph, soothingly, taking her
hot hand in his. "You're hurt, and you've been bothered, and if you
want to cry, you can. Here's my handkerchief."

After a little, her sobs ceased. Doctor Ralph still sat there,
regarding her with a sort of questioning tenderness which was entirely
outside of Araminta's brief experience.

"You're not to be bothered any more," he said. "I've seen your aunt,
and she's not to set foot in this room again until you get well. If
she even speaks to you from the hall, you're to tell me."

Araminta gazed at him, wide-eyed and troubled. "I can't take care of
myself," she said, with a pathetic little smile.

"You're not going to. The lady who lives here is going to take care of
you."

"Miss Evelina? She got burned because she was bad and she has to wear
a veil all the time."

"How was she bad?" asked Ralph.

"I don't just know," whispered Araminta, cautiously. "Aunt Hitty
didn't know, or else she wouldn't tell me, but she was bad. She went
to a man's house. She----"

Then Araminta remembered that it was Doctor Dexter's house to which
Miss Evelina had gone. In shame and terror, she hid her face again.

"I don't believe anybody ever got burned just for being bad," Ralph was
saying, "but your face is hot and I'm going to cool it for you."

He brought a bowl of cold water, and with his handkerchief bathed
Araminta's flushed face and her hot hands. "Doesn't that feel good?"
he asked, when the traces of tears had been practically removed.

"Yes," sighed Araminta, gratefully, "but I've always washed my own face
before. I saw a cat once," she continued. "He was washing his
children's faces."

"Must have been a lady cat," observed Ralph, with a smile.

"The little cats," pursued Araminta, "looked to be very soft. I think
they liked it."

"They a