"See, I will put it this way. They call me the Cup-o'-Cold-Water Lady because--I give them all a little drink of water and it makes them better! I made the little Hope boy well; ask Liza, she knows. I gave your Sandy a cup of cold water and it helped his throat--I could have helped him more, poor boy, if he had not gone away. Martin Morley, I want to give _you_ a cup of cold water--oh! please trust me! You must do what I ask you to do--just for one little week. It will be hard, but I will watch with you and share every suffering hour. I will nurse you and care for you as a daughter might, and then, at the end, I believe as truly as God hears me, that you win stand straight and take your place--_your_ place--among men!" "A charm?" Morley panted, for he was quite overcome by the power exerted over him. Full of zeal and trust, seizing upon anything to gain her end, Marcia Lowe replied: "Exactly--a charm! See!" and suddenly she turned to the closet beside the chimney-place; taking out a small bottle she held it up to the light with a glow of reverence upon her uplifted face. "Fifteen tiny grains of this!" Morley was fascinated. "Fifteen grains," he repeated, like a man talking in his sleep--"fifteen grains!" "Yes, yes! and then you must have--faith! You know you always _must_ have faith in charms." Morley assented to this. "Will--you--will you try?" "I--reckon I will, mum!" "Will you promise? Oh! If I have ever done anything to make you grateful, promise! promise!" "I promise!" From that night the cure began. Shut away against the mountain-world, favoured by one of the hill storms, prolonged and depressing, the little doctor tested her charm. She was nurse and companion as well as physician. Willing to do battle and take the consequences for the faith that was in her, she wrestled with her problem. Men had proven the thing elsewhere--why not she, here among her dead uncle's people? "You cannot eat until I tell you to, Martin Morley," she said. For the first day or so the weakened man, used to deprivation, made no demur; then his haggard face and imploring eyes pleaded for food, and on the third day he asked for it, cried for it like a starving child. This wrung Marcia Lowe's heart. "Oh! we women," she whispered to herself scornfully; "I declare I must put a watch upon myself or I will find myself going to the cupboard and betraying the faith of Doctor Marcia Lowe!" Then she resorted to subterfuge, and playfully bullied poor Morley. "See! If I do not eat, can you not keep me company? What manners have you, Martin Morley, to eat while a lady starves?" The wretched fellow tried to smile, but wept instead. After that, Marcia Lowe rarely left the room; never unless Morley slept. She stole like a thief to her closet and ate her food when, and as she could. "It's the nurse of Martin Morley who refreshes herself," she thought comfortingly.