home of an evening without bringing flowers, bonbons, or some other
evidence that he had remembered her. Unconsciously to herself, he
became more to her than her sister, who was indulgent in the extreme,
but not very demonstrative. Her shyness disappeared, and his caresses
seemed as natural as those of an elder brother, in which light she
regarded him.

Thus time passed on, and the girl rapidly approached the stature of
womanhood. Apparently she grew too fast for her slight reserve of
physical strength. She nominally attended a fashionable school, but
was often absent from ill health, and for this reason her sister
permitted her to follow her own moods. Indolence and inanition
accounted largely for her lack of strength. Exercise brought
weariness, and she would not take it. Nothing pleased her more than to
curl up on a lounge with a book; and her sister, seeing that she was
reading most of the time, felt that she was getting an education. To
the busy lady a book was a book, a kind of general fertilizer of
the mind, and as Madge usually took cold when she went out, and was
assuredly acquiring from the multitude of volumes she devoured all
the knowledge a woman needed, she was safer in the evenly heated city
house. The sisters had independent fortunes of their own, and the
great point in Mrs. Muir's mind was that they should live and enjoy
them. If Madge was only sufficiently coddled now while she was
growing, she would get strong eventually; and so the good lady, who
had as much knowledge of hygiene as of Sanscrit, tempted the invalid
with delicacies, permitted her to eat the confectionery that Graydon
brought so often, and generally indulged a nature that needed wise and
firm development.

Thus Madge lived on, growing more pale and languid with each