said the Doctor. "Gordon Keith, to
whom you doubtless refer, is the son of General Keith, who lives in an
adjoining county below the Ridge. His father was our minister during
the war--"

At this moment the conversation was interrupted by the appearance of
Mrs. Gates with the desired kettle of hot water, and the Doctor,
stopping in the midst of his sentence, devoted all of his attention to
his patient.

The confidence which he displayed and the deftness with which he worked
impressed Mrs. Yorke so much that when he was through she said: "Doctor,
I have been wondering how a man like you could be content to settle down
in this mountain wilderness. I know many fashionable physicians in
cities who could not have done for Alice a bit better than you have
done--indeed, nothing like so well--with such simple appliances."

Dr. Balsam's eyes rested on her gravely. "Well, madam, we could not all
be city doctors. These few sheep in the wilderness need a little
shepherding when they get sick. You must reflect also that if we all
went away there would be no one to look after the city people when they
come to our mountain wilderness; they, at least, need good attendance."

By the time Gordon awoke next morning he had determined that he would
see his new acquaintance again. He must see her; he would not allow her
to go out of his life so; she should, at least, know who he was, and
Mrs. Yorke should know, too.

That afternoon, impelled by some strange motive, he took the path over
the Ridge again. It had been a long day and a wearing one. He had tried
Hannibal once more; but his pupils cared less for Hannibal than for the
bumble-bees droning in the window-frame. For some reason the dull
routine of lessons had been duller than usual. The scholars had never
been so stupid. Again and again the face that he had seen rest on his
arm the day before came between him and his page, and when the eyes
opened they were as blue as forget-me-nots. He would rouse himself with
a start and plunge back bravely into the mysteries of physical geography
or of compound fractions, only to find himself, at the first quiet
moment, picking his way through the pines with that white face resting
against his shoulder.

When school was out he declined the invitation of the boys to walk with
them, and settled himself in his chair as though he meant to prepare the
lessons for the next day. After a quarter of an hour, spent mostly in
revery, he rose, put up his