I'm all ready to be a hero, but you won't be a heroine."

"I'm too practical for a heroine," said Dorothy. "There! I've forgotten my
chickens."

"I'm glad of it. Those chickens were a mistake. They oughtn't to be
perpetuated."

Youth and happiness can stand a great deal of cold water; but it was not to
be expected that Rachel Barton would be especially benefited by her night
journey through the floods. Evesham waited in the hall when he heard the
door of her room open next morning. Dorothy came slowly down the stairs;
he knew by her lingering-step and the softly closed door that she was not
happy.

"Mother is very sick," she answered his inquiry. "It is like the turn of
inflammation and rheumatism she had once before. It will be very slow,--and
oh, it is such suffering! Why do the best women in the world have to suffer
so?"

"Will you let me talk things over with you after breakfast, Dorothy?"

"Oh yes," she said, "there is so much to do and think about. I wish father
would come home!"

The tears came into Dorothy's eyes as she looked at him. Rest, such as she
had never known or felt the need of till now, and strength immeasurable,
since it would multiply her own by an unknown quantity, stood within reach
of her hand, but she might not put it out.