“Even partial relief will be most welcome,” sighed the patient.  “Ah, if I can but find strength for promised work!”

“Better let it alone and take what rest and ease you can,” was the parting advice of the physician.

“What a long, long visit the doctor is paying!” Evelyn had said to herself several times before her eyes were gladdened with the sight of his carriage rolling away down the drive.

“At last!” she cried, springing to her feet and hurrying back to the house.

She found her father lying on a sofa, his face very pale, his eyes closed.

She drew near on tiptoe, thinking he might have fallen asleep; but as she reached the side of his couch he opened his eyes, and taking her hand drew her down to his breast.

“My darling, my beloved child!” he whispered, putting his arm about her and holding her fast with tender caresses.

“What did the doctor say, papa?” she asked, nestling closer to him and laying her cheek to his.  “Does he hope to make you well very soon?”

For a moment there was no reply, and Evelyn, startled at her father’s silence, suddenly raised her head and gazed earnestly, inquiringly into his face.

He smiled, a little sadly, and gently smoothing her hair back from her forehead, “I was thinking,” he said, “of a text in the psalm we read together this morning—­’My soul, wait thou only upon God, for my expectation is from him.’  He and He only can make me well, daughter.”

“Then why send for the doctor, papa?”

“Because God works by means; it pleases Him so to do, though it would be no more difficult to Him to accomplish His designs without.  He has provided remedies, and I think it is His will that we should use them, at the same time asking His blessing upon them, feeling that without it they will be of no avail.”

“Then you are to have some medicine, I suppose?”

“Yes; and to be out a good deal in the open air.”

“Oh, then, won’t you come out to the summer-house and lie in the hammock there, with me close beside you to wait on you?”

“Presently; but I must write a letter first,” he said, putting her gently aside and resuming his seat at the writing-table.

“Can’t it wait till to-morrow, papa?” she asked.  “You may feel stronger by then.”

“It is to be only a few lines, to your Uncle Lester; and I want it to go by this afternoon’s mail, that, if possible, it may reach Fairview before they have arranged their plans for the summer.  I want them to come here to spend the hot months.  Should you like it?”

“Yes, indeed, papa!  I’ve always been fond of Uncle Lester, as you know, and I quite fell in love with Aunt Elsie and the baby when he brought them to see us on their return from Europe.”

CHAPTER II.

“How sudden do our prospects vary here!”

It was the breakfast-hour at Fairview.  The young husband and wife chatted pleasantly over their coffee, omelet and rolls, strawberries and cream, the principal subject of discourse being the expected trip to Nantucket in company with her mother, grandparents, and the rest of the family at Ion.