There was languor in the droop of her slender figure; the eyes that rested now upon Don's face, now on his work, were unnaturally large and bright, and though a rich color glowed in her cheeks, her features were thin and sharp.
"Stuart," said Mrs. Keith, in low, slightly tremulous tones, gazing fixedly at Fan as she spoke, "I am growing uneasy about that child; she is not well. She scarcely complains, but is losing flesh and strength very fast of late."
"Only because she is growing so rapidly, I think, Marcia," he said; "see what a brilliant color she has."
"Not the bloom of health, I fear," sighed the mother. "I am very glad Dr. Landreth will be here soon. I hope he may be able to do something for her."
"I hope so, indeed. Perhaps it is change of climate and scene she needs. Probably it would have been better had she gone with the others last fall."
"I don't know; it is too late to think of it now, but if Charlie recommends a trip, we must manage to give it to her."
"Certainly; and in that case you will have to go too, for I doubt if anything could induce Fan to leave her mother."
"No; what a dear, affectionate child she is! And how she and Don cling to each other."
In the pause that followed that last remark Fan's low, clear tones came distinctly to their ears.
"Ah, now I see what you are making, Don; a spoon, isn't it?"