"We could not possibly refuse, though, Sister Phoebe," said
Miss Vesta, mildly. "Little Vesta being my name-child, and
Brother Nathaniel without faculty, as one may say,--and it is
certainly no place for her at home."

"My dearest Vesta, I have not been entirely deprived of my senses!"
Miss Phoebe spoke with some asperity. "Of course we cannot refuse,
and of course we must do our utmost for our brother's motherless
child; but none the less, it is calamitous, I repeat; and I am
positive that Doctor Strong will be greatly annoyed."

At this moment Geoffrey came in, full of apologies for his ten
minutes' tardiness. The apologies were graciously received. The
Miss Blyths would never have thought of such a thing as being late
to breakfast themselves, but they were not ill-pleased to have their
lodger, occasionally--not too often--sleep beyond the usual hour. It
showed that he felt at home, Miss Phoebe said, and Miss Vesta, the
mother-instinct brooding over the lad she loved, thought he needed
all the sleep he could get, and more.

"It's really disgraceful!" said the young doctor for the third time,
as he drew his chair up to the table. "Yes, please, three lumps.
There never was such coffee in the world, Miss Blyth. I believe the
Sultan sends it to you from his own private coffee-garden. Creamed
chicken? won't I? and muffins, and marmalade,--what a blessing to be
naturally greedy! More pain this morning, Miss Blyth? I hope not."
His quick eye had seen the cloud on his hostess's brow, and he was
all attention and sympathy over his coffee-cup.

"I thank you, Doctor Strong; I feel little pain this morning; in fact,