invoke a snub by a prematurely sympathetic demeanor. His mind ran on
the events of the day before, and he thought this visit probably
related somehow to Don Ippolito. But his visitor did not speak, and at
last he said: "I hope there's nothing wrong at home, Miss Vervain. It's
rather odd to have yesterday, last night, and next morning all run
together as they have been for me in the last twenty-four hours. I
trust Mrs. Vervain is turning the whole thing into a good solid
oblivion."

"It's about--it's about--I came to see you"--said Florida, hoarsely. "I
mean," she hurried on to say, "that I want to ask you who is the best
doctor here?"

Then it was not about Don Ippolito. "Is your mother sick?" asked
Ferris, eagerly. "She must have been fearfully tired by that unlucky
expedition of ours. I hope there's nothing serious?"

"No, no! But she is not well. She is very frail, you know. You must
have noticed how frail she is," said Florida, tremulously.

Ferris had noticed that all his countrywomen, past their girlhood,
seemed to be sick, he did not know how or why; he supposed it was all
right, it was so common. In Mrs. Vervain's case, though she talked a
great deal about her ill-health, he had noticed it rather less than
usual, she had so great spirit. He recalled now that he _had_
thought her at times rather a shadowy presence, and that occasionally
it had amused him that so slight a structure should hang together as it
did--not only successfully, but triumphantly.

He said yes, he knew that Mrs. Vervain was not strong, and Florida