mother an annoying controversy; and so, fully satisfied as to her part,
Ruth took her way down the street. The question as to whether the doctor
had gone beyond the bounds of their brief acquaintance had of course been
presented to her mind; but if a slight flush came into her face when she
remembered the nature of the narrative and the personality of the narrator,
it was quickly banished by the sweet assurance that in this way he had
honored her beyond the reach of current flattery.

A certain placid strength possessed her and showed in her grave brown eyes;
with her whole heart and soul she wished to do this thing, and she longed
to do it well. Her purpose robbed her of every trace of nervousness; and
it was a sweet-faced young woman who gently knocked at room Number 10 on
the second floor of a respectable lodging-house on Polk Street.

Receiving no answer to her knock, she repeated it somewhat more loudly. At
this a tired voice called, "Come in."

She turned the knob, which yielded to her touch, and found herself in a
small, well-lighted, and neat room. Seated in an armchair near the window,
but with her back toward it, was what on first view appeared to be a
golden-haired child in black; one elbow rested on the arm of the chair, and
a childish hand supported the flower-like head. As Ruth hesitated after
closing the door behind her, she found a pair of listless violet eyes
regarding her from a small white face.

"Well?" queried the girl, without changing her position except to allow her
gaze to travel to the floor.

"You are Miss Rose Delano?" said Ruth, as she came a step nearer.