understood how much they care for
him; he has been kept both mentally and physically too low. What he
needs now is a richer diet."

"Are you turning into a doctor yourself?" inquired Kirby, with
impatience, yet struck, too, by the suggestion. "It is true that I have
always said he'd be twice the man he was if he had a glass of port with
his dinner."

"This will be the glass of port."

Mr. Moore's litter had curtains, which were down, he had not yet seen
the assemblage. His improvised couch was swung carefully across a large
wagon, which was drawn by Winthrop's horses on a walk, a man leading
them; Penelope followed in another carriage, which Winthrop had also
provided.

"I declare--it's all Gracias!" exclaimed the Doctor, as they came near
the assembled groups. "Not only our own people, but Our Lady of the
Angels' people have come too--there's Father Florencio at the head."

Penelope had now discovered the assemblage, and had bidden her coachman
hasten forward. Descending with her weak step, she herself fastened back
the curtains of the litter; "Dear," she said, tenderly, "they have come
out to meet you--the Gracias people. I know you will be glad."

She kissed him, and rearranged his pillows; then she let Winthrop help
her back into her carriage, which fell behind again. Penelope agreed
with him, evidently, in thinking that excitement would do the injured
man good.

Winthrop, who had dismounted, gave his horse to Tom, and walked himself
beside the litter; the Doctor rode on the other side, and thus they went
on their way again towards the waiting people.

These people were showing more sense than the Doctor had given them
credit for; they had drawn themselves up in two lines, one on each side
of the narrow pine barren road, on the right the congregation of St.
Philip and St. James, with their senior warden at the end of the line;
and, opposite, the flock of Our Lady of the Angels, led by their benign,
handsome old priest, Father Florencio. Then, farther on, at a little
distance, came the negroes, drawn up also in two lines.

The whites were very still; they did not cheer, they bowed and waved
their hands. Mr. Moore looked from one side to the other, turning his
head a little, and peering from his half-closed eyes, as his litter
passed on between the ranks of friends. It had been agreed that nothing
should be said--he was too weak to bear it; but all the people smiled,
though many of them felt their tears sta