So when she had seen the “infants and invalids” happily gone to rest, and after a quiet hour of family talk about the fireside had said good-night to all the others, Charlotte turned to Just with a look of welcome as fresh and inviting as if the evening had but now begun.  Doctor Churchill had gone to make a bedtime call upon a patient critically ill, and the two were quite alone.

“This is jolly,” said Just, settling himself on a couch pillow at her feet, his long legs stretched out to the fire, his head resting against his sister’s knee.  “Now I’m going to tell you everything that’s happened to me since you were married.  Not that there’s anything wonderful to tell, or that I’m in any scrape, you know, but I’d like to feel I’ve got my sister and that she cares—­just as much as ever.”  He twisted his head about till he could look up into the warm, sweet face above him. “Does she care as much as ever?”

It was an unusual demonstration from the big boy, now at the age when sisterly companionship is often despised, and Charlotte appreciated it.  More than Justin Birch could understand was in her voice as her fingers rested upon his hair, but what she said gave him great satisfaction, although it was only a blithe: 

“Just as much—­and a little more, dear.  Tell me the whole story.  There’s nothing I’d like so much to hear.”

* * * * *

CHAPTER V

“Evelyn!  Miss Evelyn Lee!  Where are you?”

Jeff’s shout rang up the stairs, and in obedience to its imperative summons Evelyn immediately appeared at the head.

“Yes, Mr. Jefferson Birch,” she responded.  “Is the house on fire?”

“Not a bit, but I’m anxious for your hearing.  I’ve been roaring gently all over the house without a result, except to scare three patients in Andy’s office.  Won’t you come down?”

She descended slowly, but she neither clung to the rail nor sat down to rest half-way, as she had done when she first came under the Churchill roof.

Her face was acquiring the soft bloom of a flower, her eyes were full of light and interest.  She still looked slim and frail, but she was beginning to show signs of waxing health very pleasant to see for those who had grown as interested in her as if she were a young sister of their own.

“I’ve an invitation for you from Carolyn Houghton for an impromptu sleigh-ride to-night.  Don’t you suppose you can go?  I’ll take all sorts of care of you and see that you don’t get too tired.  You’ve met Carolyn; she’s a jolly girl to know, and she told me to bring you if possible.”

Evelyn dropped into a chair.  “Oh, how I should love to go!” she said.  “I never went on a sleigh-ride like that in my life.  Do you go all together in a big load?”

“Yes—­a regular prairie-schooner of a sleigh.  Holds a dozen of us, packed like sardines, so nobody can get cold.  We take hot soapstones and rugs and robes, and we go only twelve miles, to a farmhouse where we get a hot supper—­oysters and hot biscuit and maple-syrup, and all sorts of good things.  You must go.”