ing an aeolian harp."]

"Thank you," Paul Colbert said. "What beautiful things you think of,
what lovely things you do!"

She turned quickly with a smile and a blush, and came to the bedside.

"Why--you were not to wake up yet! It's much too early for a sick man to
open his eyes."

"But I am not a sick man any longer. I am almost well. I could get up
now, if I wished," jestingly, "I am getting well as fast as I can, just
to convict the other doctor of a mistaken diagnosis. What a fine old
fellow he is!" with a quick change to earnestness. "How kind he has
been, how untiring in his attention and goodness to me. And so skilful,
too. I am ashamed of my presumption. A mere beginner like myself, to
question his methods in dealing with the Cold Plague! I don't believe he
made the mistakes they said he did. He couldn't!"

It was an unlucky recollection. The thought of this mysterious epidemic
which had grown worse, till it was now devastating the whole country,
made him suddenly restless. His patients were needing him sorely while
he lay here, still bound hand and foot by weakness. He turned his head
miserably on the pillow. It was not the first time that this thought had
troubled him, and she knew the signs. Laying a gentle, soothing hand on
his tossing head, she spoke in the quieting tone that a woman always
uses to soothe and comfort a child or a man whom she loves.

"It will not be long now. You can soon go back to them," she said.

The tone was none the less soothing because a bitter pang went through
her own heart with the words. What should she do when he was gone? And
he was almost strong enough to return to the work which was calling him.
But the aching of a true woman's own heart has nothing to do with the
peace that she gives to those whom she loves. And then it may have been
only the sweet sadness of the spirit harp's sighing that made Ruth's
lips quiver under their bright smile.

"But they need me now," he groaned. "They are dying untended while I lie
helpless here. The old doctor cannot take care of them. He has too many
patients of his own. He is riding day and night. He tries to hide the
truth, but I know it. The Cold Plague grows in violence every day."

He suddenly raised himself on his elbow with a great effort.

"Maybe I can sit up if I try very hard," he gasped. "The will has much
to do with the strength. I am determined--"

"No! no!" cried Ruth in alarm.

But he had already sunk back exhauste