“She won’t wake, until long after you’ve got back; I’ll answer for that.  I’m going to stay here awhile.  Go!  I’ll take the responsibility.”

Clementina’s face brightened.  She wanted very much to go.  She should meet some pleasant people; she always did, at Miss Milray’s.  Then the light died out of her gay eyes, and she set her lips.  “No, I told her I shouldn’t go.”

“I didn’t hear you,” said Dr. Welwright.  “A doctor has no eyes and ears except for the symptoms of his patients.”

“Oh, I know,” said Clementina.  She had liked Dr. Welwright from the first, and she thought it was very nice of him to stay on, after he left Mrs. Lander’s bedside, and help to make her lonesome evening pass pleasantly in the parlor.  He jumped up finally, and looked at his watch.  “Bless my soul!” he said, and he went in for another look at Mrs. Lander.  When he came back, he said, “She’s all right.  But you’ve made me break an engagement, Miss Claxon.  I was going to tea at Miss Milray’s.  She promised me I should meet you there.”

It seemed a great joke; and Clementina offered to carry his excuses to Miss Milray, when she went to make her own.

She, went the next morning.  Mrs. Lander insisted that she should go; she said that she was not going to have Miss Milray thinking that she wanted to keep her all to herself.

Miss Milray kissed the girl in full forgiveness, but she asked, “Did Dr. Welwright think it a very bad attack?”

“Has he been he’a?” returned Clementina.

Miss Milray laughed.  “Doctors don’t betray their patients—­good doctors.  No, he hasn’t been here, if that will help you.  I wish it would help me, but it won’t, quite.  I don’t like to think of that old woman using you up, Clementina.”

“Oh, she doesn’t, Miss Milray.  You mustn’t think so.  You don’t know how good she is to me.”

“Does she ever remind you of it?”

Clementina’s eyes fell.  “She isn’t like herself when she doesn’t feel well.”

“I knew it!” Miss Milray triumphed.  “I always knew that she was a dreadful old tabby.  I wish you were safely out of her clutches.  Come and live with me, my dear, when Mrs. Lander gets tired of you.  But she’ll never get tired of you.  You’re just the kind of helpless mouse that such an old tabby would make her natural prey.  But she sha’n’t, even if another sort of cat has to get you!  I’m sorry you couldn’t come last night.  Your little Russian was here, and went away early and very bitterly because you didn’t come.  He seemed to think there was nobody, and said so, in everything but words.”

“Oh!” said Clementina.  “Don’t you think he’s very nice, Miss Milray?”

“He’s very mystical, or else so very simple that he seems so.  I hope you can make him out.”

Don’t you think he’s very much in ea’nest?

“Oh, as the grave, or the asylum.  I shouldn’t like him to be in earnest about me, if I were you.”