There was a vein of humor, and a spirit of "don't care" in Mrs.
Carleton, which had once made her independent, and almost hoydenish.
But fashionable associations, since her woman-life began, had toned
her down into exceeding propriety. Fashion and conventionality,
however, were losing their influence, since enfeebled health kept
her feet back from the world's gay places; and the doctor's
invitation to a ride found her sufficiently disenthralled to see in
it a pleasing novelty.

"I've half a mind to go," she said, smiling. She had not smiled
before since the doctor came in.

"I'll ring for your maid," and Dr. Farleigh's hand was on the
bell-rope before Mrs. Carleton had space to think twice, and
endanger a change of thought.

"I'm not sure that I am strong enough for the effort," said Mrs.
Carleton, and she laid her head back upon the cushions in a feeble
way.

"Trust me for that," replied the doctor.

The maid came in.

"Bring me a shawl and my bonnet, Alice; I am going to ride out with
the doctor." Very languidly was the sentence spoken.

"I'm afraid, doctor, it will be too much for me. You don't know how
weak I am. The very thought of such an effort exhausts me."