Celia smiled.  “I know.  I feel as you do, and I think father and mother are a little anxious lest Charlotte has taken too much care on her shoulders.  But Charlotte and Andy have set out to make everybody happy, and they’re seizing every chance that offers.  They’re so enthusiastic about it one can’t bear to dampen their ardour.  The least we can do is to help them whenever we can.”

Jeff made a wry face.  “I don’t mind assisting in the boy’s education, but I draw the line at the girl.  She’s a silly.  Why, she—­” His face coloured with resentment.  “It sounds crazy to say, but she does, for a fact, make eyes at every man or boy she sees.”

Celia laughed.  “I hadn’t noticed.  But she can’t mean to, Jeff.  She’s only fifteen.”

“That’s the idiocy of it.  She’s only fifteen, but you watch her the next time any of us fellows come into the room.  Just can tell you; he’s in a chronic state of laugh over it.  She thinks she’s a beauty, and she thinks we’re all impressed with the fact.”

“She is pretty.”

“I don’t think so.  I don’t call any girl pretty who’s so struck with herself that she can’t get by a mirror without a glance and a pat of that big fluff of front hair.  You don’t catch Eveyln looking into a glass or acting as if she thought everybody was about to fall in love with her.  I’m going to take her skating when she gets strong enough.”

“That won’t be for some time, I’m afraid.  But she certainly is looking better already.”

So she was.  Charlotte had begun very gently with Evelyn, reducing the temperature of the daily bath only by a degree at a time, lessening the heat in the sleeping room, opening the windows for outside air an inch more each night, coaxing her out for a short walk of gradually increasing length each day, and generally luring her toward more healthful ways of living than those to which she had been accustomed.

Bedtime found Evelyn exceedingly weary, but it was healthful weariness, and she was beginning to be able to sleep.

A tinge of colour was growing in the pale cheeks, a brighter expression in the large eyes, and altogether the young guest was showing a gratifying response to the new methods.

“I think,” said Charlotte to Evelyn one morning, when three weeks had gone by, “we shall have to celebrate your improvement by a little concert this evening.  Would you like to hear the Birch-Churchill orchestra?”

“Orchestra?  How lovely!  Indeed I should!” cried Evelyn, with a display of enthusiasm quite unusual.  “What do you play?”

“Strings.  We’re badly out of practice, but there are always a few old things we can get up fairly well at a minute’s notice.  The truth is, we haven’t played together since long before my wedding-day, and I resolved the minute we were married we’d begin again.  We will begin, this very night.  I know they’ll all be glad.”

The performers did, indeed, show their pleasure by arriving early, flannel-shrouded instruments under their arms.  Doctor Churchill came in just as they were tuning.  Since Lanse had been away, Andy, who was something of a violinist had taken up Lanse’s viola, and was now able to occupy his brother-in-law’s place.  Celia, however, had been chosen to fill the vacant role of leadership.