the famous physician who had examined Melody at his instance knew that
under all the joy and vigor of the child's simple, healthy life lay
dormant a trouble of the heart, which would make any life of
excitement or fatigue fatal to her in short space, though she might
live in quiet many happy years. Yes, one other person knew this,--his
friend Dr. Anthony, whose remonstrances against the wickedness of
hiding this rare jewel from a world of appreciation and of fame could
only be silenced by showing him the bitter drop which lay at the heart
of the rose.

Rejoice Dale reassured him by a tender pressure of the hand, and a few
soothing words. They had known each other ever since their pinafore
days, these three people. He was younger than Miss Rejoice, and he had
been deeply in love with her when he was an awkward boy of fifteen,
and she a lovely seventeen-year-old girl. They had called him "doctor"
at first in sport, when he came home to practise in his native
village; but soon he had so fully shown his claim to the grave title
that "the girls" and every one else had forgotten the fact that he had
once been "Jack" to the whole village.

"Doctor," said the sick woman, "try not to think about it more than
you can help! There are all the sick people looking to you as next to
the hand of God; your path is clear before you."

Dr. Brown groaned. He wished his path were not so clear, that he might
in some way make excuse to turn aside from it. "I will give Vesta a
note to Dr. Anthony," he said, brightening a little at the thought.
"He will do anything in his power to help us. There are other people,
too, who will be kind. Yes, yes; we shall have plenty of help."