"You don't think there ever is?" she asked absently.

"No," William said. "I suppose you'll think I'm very old-fashioned,

but I don't, unless--" he stopped short; he could not have put his

qualifying thought into words to any woman, especially not to this

woman, so like a girl in spite of her thirty-odd years. "You see," he

said, awkwardly, "it's such an unusual thing. It never happened in Old

Chester; why, I don't believe I ever saw a--a divorced person in my

life!"

"Well," she said, "anyhow, I didn't get a divorce."

"Mrs. Richie!" he said, blushing to his temples, "you didn't think I

thought of such a thing?"

But it was plain that she regretted her confidence; she rose with the

evident purpose of changing the subject. "I must go and put in some

more seeds. Why doesn't Dr. Lavendar keep this little boy? After all,

he's lonely himself."

"Well, he's an old man you know, and--"

"Dr. King," she broke in, "I don't mind having the child here for a

week while Dr. Lavendar is looking for somebody to take him. Not

longer. It wouldn't do. Really it wouldn't. But for a week, perhaps,

or maybe two!"

"That would be a great help," William King said. "Then Dr. Lavendar

can have plenty of time to find a home for him. I would have been glad

to take him myself, but just at present it happens that it is not--I

should say, Mrs. King is very tired, and--"

"It is perfectly convenient for me," Mrs. Richie said, "if you'll only

cure Maggie! You must cure Maggie, so that she can make cookies for

him."

"I'll cure Maggie," the doctor assured her smiling, and went away much

pleased with himself. But when he got into his shabby old buggy he

sighed.

"Poor soul!" he said. "Poor soul!"




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