"He has gone home for an hour.

Mary takes excellent care of me, and I felt I was really keeping him too much from his aunts.

For his stay is limited, you know, and I am afraid I have been selfish in keeping him so much with me." "No, no," the rector said, "it is a pleasure for him to be with you; it is a pleasure for any of us.

Poor little Lois is dreadfully distressed about you,--she longs to come and nurse you herself; and Helen,--Helen came last night, you know,--she wants to be of some use, too." "Oh, well, now, dear me," remonstrated Mr.Denner feebly, "Miss Lois must not have a moment's uneasiness about me,--not a moment's.

Pray tell her I am doing nicely; and it is really of no consequence in the world,--not the slightest." Then Mr.Denner began to speak of Gifford's kindness, and how good every one in the village had been to him; even Mary had softened wonderfully in the last few days, though of this the sick man did not speak, for it would seem to imply that Mary had not always been all she might be, and, in view of her present kindness, it would have been ungracious to draw attention to that.
"Yes," Mr.Denner ended, folding his little hands on the counterpane, "it is worth while to have had this indisposition (except for the trouble it has given others) just to see how good every one is.