Produced by Project Gutenberg Distributed Proofreaders GEOFFREY STRONG By Laura E. Richards Author of "Captain January," "Melody," "Marie," etc. TO Richard Sullivan, KINDEST OF UNCLES, FRIENDS, AND CRITICS, THIS STORY IS AFFECTIONATELY DEDICATED CONTENTS CHAPTER I. THE TEMPLE OF VESTA II. THE YOUNG DOCTOR III. GARDEN FANCIES IV. MOSTLY PROFESSIONAL V. LETTER-WRITING AND HYSTERICS VI. INFORMATION VII. FESTIVITY VIII. REVELATION IX. SIDE LIGHTS X. OVER THE WAY XI. BROKEN BONES XII. CONVALESCENCE XIII. RECOVERY ILLUSTRATIONS. He paddled on in silence The young doctor glancing around saw all these things. He stood looking at her, his hand still on the hammock rope. "There he comes, full chisel!" cried Ithuriel Butters. CHAPTER I. THE TEMPLE OF VESTA "That's a pleasant looking house," said the young doctor. "What's the matter with my getting taken in there?" The old doctor checked his horse, and looked at the house with a smile. "Nothing in the world," he said, "except the small fact that they wouldn't take you." "Why not?" asked the young man, vivaciously. "Too rich? too proud? too young? too old? what's the matter with them?" The old doctor laughed outright this time. "You young firebrand!" he said. "Do you think you are going to take this village by storm? That house is the Temple of Vesta. It is inhabited by the Vestal Virgins, who tend the sacred fire, and do other things beside. You might as well ask to be taken into the meeting-house to board." "This is more attractive than the meetinghouse," said the young doctor. "This is one of the most attractive houses I ever saw." He looked at it earnestly, and as they drove along the elm-shaded street, he turned in his seat to look at it again. It certainly was an attractive house. Its front of bright clean red brick was perhaps too near the street; but the garden, whose tall lilac and syringa bushes waved over the top of the high wall, must, he thought, run back some way, and from the west windows there must be a glorious sea-view. The house looked both genteel and benevolent. The white stone steps and window-sills and the white fan over the door gave a certain effect of clean linen that was singularly pleasing. The young doctor, unlike Doctor Johnson, had a passion for clean linen. The knocker, too, was of the graceful long oval shape he liked, and burnished to the last point of perfection, and the shining windows were so placed as to give an air of cheerful interrogation to the whole. "I like that house!" said the young doctor again. "Tell me about the people!"