"How nice you look Esther, and what a pretty dress! Is that Allan's present? But you are still very thin, my dear.
"Oh, I am all right," I returned, carelessly, for what did it matter how I looked, now Carrie was better? "Dear Ruth," I whispered, as she still stood beside me, "I can think of nothing but the pleasure of being with you again."
"I hope you mean to include me in that last speech," said a voice behind me; and there was Mr. Lucas standing laughing at us. He had come through the curtained doorway unheard, and I rose in some little confusion to shake hands.
To my surprise, he echoed Miss Ruth's speech; but then he had not seen me for three months. I had been through so much since we last met.
"What have they been doing to you, my poor child?" Those were actually his words, and his eyes rested on my face with quite a grieved, pitying expression.
"Allan told me I was rather unsubstantial-looking," I returned, trying to speak lightly; but somehow the tears came to my eyes. "I was so tired before he came home, but now I am getting rested."
"I wonder at Dr. Cameron letting a child like you work so hard," he retorted, quite abruptly. He had called me child twice, and I was eighteen and a half, and feeling so old—so old. I fancy Ruth saw my lip quiver, for she hastily interposed:
"Let her sit down, Giles, and I will give her some tea. She looks as cold as a little starved robin."
And after that no one spoke again of my altered looks. It troubled me for a few minutes, and then it passed out of my mind.
After all, it could not be helped if I were a little thin and worn. The strain of those three months had been terrible; the daily spectacle of physical suffering before my eyes, the wakeful nights, the long monotonous days, and then the shock of knowing that Carrie must be a cripple, had all been too much for me.