n is wanted at
home by her little ones. Mrs. Baker, you will not object, I am sure."

It was now the elegant woman's turn to flush as Kemp took up the child.

Ruth felt a leap of delight at the action. It was a quiet lesson to be
laid to heart; and she knew she could never see him in a better light
than when he left the room holding the little charity patient in his
arms.

She also noticed with a tinge of amusement the look of added hauteur on
the face of Mrs. Baker, as she returned to her seat at the window.

"Haughtiness," mused Ruth, "is merely a cloak to selfishness, or the
want of a proper spirit of humanity."

The magazine article remained unread; she drifted into a sort of
day-dream, and scarcely noticed when Mrs. Baker left the room.

"Well, Miss Levice."

She started up, slightly embarrassed, as the doctor's voice thus aroused
her.

"I beg your pardon," she said, coming forward and flushing slightly
under his amused smile. "It was so quiet here that I forgot where I
was."

He stood aside as she passed into the room, bringing with her an
exquisite fragrance of roses.

"Will you be seated?" he asked, as he turned from closing the door.

"No; it is not worth while."

"What is the trouble,--you or your mother?"

There had been nothing disconcerting in the Irish-woman's stare; but she
felt suddenly hot and uncomfortable under the doctor's broad gaze.

"Neither of us," she answered; "I broke the tonic bottle this morning,
and as the number was destroyed, I should like to have you give me
another prescription."

"Directly. Take this chair for a moment."

She seated herself perforce, and he took the chair beside the desk.

"How is she since yesterday?" he asked, as he wrote, without looking up.

"Quite as comfortable."

He handed her the prescription presently, and she arose at once. He
stepped forward to open the outer door for her.

"I hope you no longer feel alarmed over her health," he remarked, with a
hand on the knob.

"No; you have made us feel there was no cause for it. But for your
method I am afraid there might have been."

"Thank you; but do not think anything of the kind. Your nursing was as
potent a factor as my directions. It is not Congress, but the people,
who make the country, you know."

"That is condescending, coming from Congress," she laughed gayly; "but
I must disclaim the compliment, I am sorry to say; my nursing was only a
name."

"As you please. Miss Levice, may