“You appear to take considerable interest in Dr. Jasper, sir,” remarked Smith, eyeing the man with a quizzical look, as the driver vaulted to his elevated seat and took up the reins.
“Yes; I’ve heard him spoken of,” was the reply.
“Nothing bad, I’ll venture to say; he’s well thought of in these parts,” remarked Smith, with emphasis.
But the stranger was gazing from the window, as they whirled rapidly down the street, and paid no attention to the remark.
CHAPTER XIII.
It was a bright June morning, redolent of the breath of roses and honeysuckle in full bloom, sweet with the songs of birds; and nowhere sweeter or lovelier than at Lakeside, where gentle breezes sighed in the tree-tops and glad sunbeams danced on the waters of the lake.
The grandmother’s face expressed placid contentment as she went about her daily round of household duties; Ronald was in almost gay spirits, averring that he had not felt so well at any time before since receiving his wounds; the children were full of mirth and jollity, running hither and thither about the garden and lawn, gathering flowers for the parlor vases, feeding the chickens, hunting eggs in the barn, and doing various little services for the older members of the family. Their sister noticed their efforts with smiles and words of commendation, talked cheerfully, even gayly, to her grandmother and Ronald, and went about attending to her many duties and responsibilities in her usual prompt and energetic fashion; yet her heart was heavy and her cheek pale.
“Miriam, dear child,” Mrs. Heath said at length, “you are not well.”
“I’m not sick, granny dear,” was the smiling rejoinder; “a slight headache is all that ails me, and a walk will relieve it, I think; so, as a few things are wanted from the stores, and I can be spared from the field, I’m going into town.”