One warm August afternoon Mrs. Comstock looked up from the ruffle on which she was engaged to see a blue-coated messenger enter the gate.

“Is Philip Ammon here?” asked the boy.

“He is,” said Mrs. Comstock.

“I have a message for him.”

“He is in the woods back of the cabin.  I will ring the bell.  Do you know if it is important?”

“Urgent,” said the boy; “I rode hard.”

Mrs. Comstock stepped to the back door and clanged the dinner bell sharply, paused a second, and rang again.  In a short time Philip and Elnora ran down the path.

“Are you ill, mother?” cried Elnora.

Mrs. Comstock indicated the boy.  “There is an important message for Philip,” she said.

He muttered an excuse and tore open the telegram.  His colour faded slightly.  “I have to take the first train,” he said.  “My father is ill and I am needed.”

He handed the sheet to Elnora.  “I have about two hours, as I remember the trains north, but my things are all over Uncle Doc’s house, so I must go at once.”

“Certainly,” said Elnora, giving back the message.  “Is there anything I can do to help?  Mother, bring Philip a glass of buttermilk to start on.  I will gather what you have here.”

“Never mind.  There is nothing of importance.  I don’t want to be hampered.  I’ll send for it if I miss anything I need.”

Philip drank the milk, said good-bye to Mrs. Comstock; thanked her for all her kindness, and turned to Elnora.

“Will you walk to the edge of the Limberlost with me?” he asked.  Elnora assented.  Mrs. Comstock followed to the gate, urged him to come again soon, and repeated her good-bye.  Then she went back to the arbour to await Elnora’s return.  As she watched down the road she smiled softly.

“I had an idea he would speak to me first,” she thought, “but this may change things some.  He hasn’t time.  Elnora will come back a happy girl, and she has good reason.  He is a model young man.  Her lot will be very different from mine.”

She picked up her embroidery and began setting dainty precise little stitches, possible only to certain women.

On the road Elnora spoke first.  “I do hope it is nothing serious,” she said.  “Is he usually strong?”

“Quite strong,” said Philip.  “I am not at all alarmed but I am very much ashamed.  I have been well enough for the past month to have gone home and helped him with some critical cases that were keeping him at work in this heat.  I was enjoying myself so I wouldn’t offer to go, and he would not ask me to come, so long as he could help it.  I have allowed him to overtax himself until he is down, and mother and Polly are north at our cottage.  He’s never been sick before, and it’s probable I am to blame that he is now.”

“He intended you to stay this long when you came,” urged Elnora.

“Yes, but it’s hot in Chicago.  I should have remembered him.  He is always thinking of me.  Possibly he has needed me for days.  I am ashamed to go to him in splendid condition and admit that I was having such a fine time I forgot to come home.”