The invalid, with the wilfulness of illness, insisted on putting aside the broth for the cup of tea that Lizzie had brought her.
"You see, she's used to it," Lizzie said, apologetically. "I always bring her a cup of tea and a bit of toast before I take my own supper, and she likes it."
"Well," said Mr. Alden, "I ought to be going home, if I can't do anything more here; but I don't like leaving you alone till your brother comes, Miss Blanchard. Perhaps this good friend of Mrs. Travers wouldn't mind coming back when she has had her supper, and staying with you till your brother comes, or I return, which I shall do, in any case."
"I am going to stay here all night, Mr. Alden," said Miss Blanchard, decidedly.—"I shall be only too glad to relieve you," she said to Lizzie, who was looking at her in surprise. "It's too much for you, when you can't rest in the daytime, as I can easily do; and I don't mind being alone, Mr. Alden! However, if you will be more satisfied——"
"Indeed, miss," Lizzie eagerly interposed, "I'll be back in ten minutes, and stay with you as long as you like. It's so good of you to say you'll stay all night! I don't mind it generally, but to-night I am dead tired."
And she looked it.
Mr. Alden insisted on Roland's going home with him to tea, as he was so far from his own quarters; and, as soon as Lizzie had returned, they took their departure. Miss Blanchard begged that Mr. Alden would not return that evening, as her brother would soon be there to give her all necessary directions, and Mr. Alden could see him later as to what it would be best to do for the patient. She bade Roland, also, a cordial good-night, which he as cordially returned; thinking, with some regret, how little likely it was that he should have any opportunity of improving an acquaintance which, brief as it had been, had already strongly interested him.
"Miss Blanchard is one of my special admirations," said Mr. Alden, smiling, as they walked on together. "She's an uncommon type, and has been brought up in a very different atmosphere from Minton society. A quiet, refined country home, time and training for thought and study, good literature to grow up among, a wide-minded, philosophical father of the old school, and an aunt with the soul of a saint and the active benevolence of a Sister of Charity; it is no wonder that Nora Blanchard is a sort of rara avis among girls."
"You believe in heredity then, sir, and in environment?" said Roland.
The clergyman looked at him keenly, but with a genial smile. "Certainly," he said; "I believe in both, but I believe also in something else, that is not either; and in this lies the difference between my philosophy and that of the people who are so bent on making automata of us all. They always seem to me to give, in their own persons, a most apt illustration of the lines,