On Saturday afternoon she was introduced to Mrs. Seabrook while
strolling in the grounds with Miss Reynolds, between whom and
herself a growing friendliness was asserting itself. The
professor's wife was walking beside a wheel-chair, which was being
propelled by a nurse in cap and apron, and in which was seated--
propped up by pillows--a young girl who appeared to be about seven
or eight years of age, although her serious, pain-lined face and
thoughtful eyes seemed, by right, to belong to an older person.

Miss Reynolds paused on meeting this trio and introduced Katherine
to Mrs. Seabrook, who greeted her with a sweet cordiality that at
once won the girl's heart.

"I heard that we had a new student among us," she said, as she
warmly clasped Katherine's hand, "and I hope you are going to be
very happy with us, Miss Minturn."

"Thank you; not 'going to be'--I already am happy here," she
cheerily and truthfully replied, for she had become deeply
interested in her work, and, as she dearly loved to study, she was
content to leave her social relations to be governed by the love
she was "trying to live."

"This is my daughter," Mrs. Seabrook continued, as she turned a
fond look upon the pale, pinched face among the pillows. "Dorothy,
this is the young lady whom you have been wishing to see."

Katherine bent down, took the small mittened hand that was
extended to her and smiled into the grave, searching eyes that