interest in something really useful."

"What is it, Dr. Adams?" implored Jessie, whose curiosity was by
this time fired.

"Well, it's just this: down in the hospital there's a girl about
Katharine's age shut up in a room by herself, where she must stay
a year. She isn't pretty; she isn't especially bright; she is an
Irish girl from one of the hill towns in the northern part of the
state. But she has something the matter with her back, so all she
can do is to lie there on a sort of frame, and look at the wall of
her room."

The doctor paused. While he had been talking, he had watched the
faces of the girls, curious to see the effect which his short
story would have on them. Polly's cheeks were flushed, Jean's eyes
were shining with her interest, but Katharine's lashes drooped on
her cheek, and were a little moist. He nodded approvingly to
himself, as he looked at her.

"Go on, papa," urged Polly.

"There isn't much more to say," returned her father, resting his
arm on the back of her chair. "It occurred to me to-day to wonder
if you girls couldn't each of you take a day a week,--there are
just the six of you, you know,--and run in to see her for a few
minutes after school. She is perfectly well, except for her back,
and you can imagine how dull it must be for her there. Now,
suppose you could drop in for half an hour and get acquainted with
her, or read something simple to her? She's not up to 'Pilgrim's