CHAPTER SEVENTEENTH.
"The lilies faintly to the roses yield, As on thy lovely cheek they struggling vie, And thoughts are in thy speaking eyes revealed, Pure as the fount the prophet's rod unseal'd." -- HOFFMAN.
"Dr.Arthur lef' dis for you, Miss Wi'let," said one of the maids, meeting her young mistress on the veranda and handing her a note.
"Cousin Arthur?
was he here ?" "Yes, miss.

He axed for you, but hadn't no time to stop, not even to see po' Miss Molly.

'Spect somebody's mighty sick." Arthur Conly had entered the medical profession, and for the last two years had been practicing in partnership with Dr.Barton.
Vi glanced over the note and hastened to Eddie, whom she found in the schoolroom, its only occupant at the moment.
"Here's a note from Isa, asking me to bring Rosie and come to Roselands for the rest of the day, after lessons are done.

She thinks I must feel lonely.

It is very kind, but what shall I do about it?
Rosie would enjoy going, but would it be kind to you or the boys, or Molly ?" "I might take the boys over to the Oaks, but I don't know--oh, I think Molly would probably prefer solitude, as I happen to know that she has some writing to do.