her bosom.

"It would be too bad to wake him now," said the doctor, in a low voice,
coming back to her side; "he is sleeping restfully; and that is what he
needs. I am sorry our little plan is frustrated; but it would be senseless
to wait, as there is no telling when he will waken."

A shade of disappointment passed over the girl's face, which he noticed.

"But," he continued, "you might leave your roses where he cannot fail to
see them. His conjectures on their mysterious appearance will rouse him
sufficiently for one day."

He watched her move lightly across the room, and fill a cup with water from
an earthenware pitcher. She looked about for a second as if hesitating
where to place it, and then quickly drew up a high-backed wooden chair
close to the bedside, and placed thereon a cup with roses, so that they
looked straight into the face of the slumbering lad.

"We will go now," Kemp said, and opened the door for Ruth to pass before
him. She followed him slowly, but on the threshold drew back, a thoughtful
little pucker on her brow.

"I think I shall wait anyway," she explained. "I should like to talk with
Bob a little."

The doctor looked slightly annoyed.

"You had better drive home with me," he objected.