And not ask me why?"

"Certainly."

"Thank you. Yes," she added hastily, "she is so much worse that some one
of greater experience than I must see her, and I have made up my mind.
Dr. Mulbridge may refuse to consult with me. I know very well that there
is a prejudice against women physicians, and I couldn't especially blame
him for sharing it. I have thought it all over. If he refuses, I shall
know what to do." She had ceased to address Libby, who respected her
soliloquy. He drove on rapidly over the soft road, where the wheels made
no sound, and the track wandered with apparent aimlessness through the
interminable woods of young oak and pine. The low trees were full of the
sunshine, and dappled them with shadow as they dashed along; the fresh,
green ferns springing from the brown carpet of the pine-needles were
as if painted against it. The breath of the pines was heavier for the
recent rain; and the woody smell of the oaks was pungent where the
balsam failed. They met no one, but the solitude did not make itself
felt through her preoccupation. From time to time she dropped a word or
two; but for the most she was silent, and he did not attempt to lead.
By and by they came to an opener place, where there were many red
field-lilies tilting in the wind.

"Would you like some of those?" he asked, pulling up.

"I should, very much," she answered, glad of the sight of the gay
things. But when he had gathered her a bunch of the flowers she looked
down at them in her lap, and said, "It's silly in me to be caring for
lilies at such a time, and I should make an unfavorable impression on
Dr. Mulbridge if he saw me with them. But I shall risk their effect on
him. He may think I have been botanizing."

"Unless you tell him you have n't," the young man suggested.

"I need n't do that."

"I don't think any one else would do it."

She colored a little at the tribute to her candor, and it pleased her,
though it had just pleased her as much to forget that she was not like
any other young girl who might be simply and irresponsibly happy in
flowers gathered for her by a young man. "I won't tell him, either!" she
cried, willing to grasp the fleeting emotion again; but it was gone, and
only a little residue of sad consciousness remained.

The woods gave way on either side of the road, which began to be a
village street, sloping and shelving down toward the curve of a quiet
bay. The neat weather-gray dwellings, shingled to the grou