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"A patient!" said she. "You'll have to go out."

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I groaned, for I was newly come back from a weary day.

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We heard the door open, a few hurried words, and then quick steps upon the linoleum. Our own door flew open, and a lady, clad in some dark-coloured stuff, with a black veil, entered the room.

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"You will excuse my calling so late," she began, and then, suddenly losing her self-control, she ran forward, threw her arms about my wife's neck, and sobbed upon her shoulder. "Oh, I'm in such trouble!" she cried; "I do so want a little help."

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"Why," said my wife, pulling up her veil, "it is Kate Whitney. How you startled me, Kate! I had not an idea who you were when you came in."

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"I didn't know what to do, so l came straight to you." That was always the way. Folk who were in grief came to my wife like birds to a light-house.


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