"You look scarcely fit," was the village-physician's somewhat ungracious comment; and his eyes said, what his lips dared not,--"Who are you?"
"I think you'll find me so, if you try me."
Miss Axtell had gone away again, and neither saw nor heeded me.
"Will you come below?"--and the doctor looked at me as he went out.
I followed him. In the library he shut the door, sat down near the table, took from his pocket a small phial containing a light brown powder, and, dividing a piece of paper into the minute scraps needful, made a deposit in each from the phial, and then, folding over the bits of paper, handed them to me.
"Are you accustomed to take care of sick persons?" he asked.
"Not much; but I am a physician's daughter. I have a little experience."
"Are you a visitor here?"
"No,--at the parsonage."
A pair of quick gray eyes danced out at me from under browy cliffs clothed with a ledge of lashes, in an actually startling manner. I didn't think the man had so much of life in him.