Prof. Seabrook was sitting beside her, reading from an entertaining book, to pass the time during his wife's absence on her round of visits to the sick. Katherine flushed slightly as she entered the room, for, try as she would, she had not yet quite overcome a sense of reserve whenever she met her principal. His manner to her was always marked by the most punctilious politeness; but it was such frigid courtesy and so entirely at variance with his affability during their first interview, that she also seemed to freeze when in his presence. The moment the door opened Dorothy uttered a cry of joy, extending eager hands to her, and, after saluting Prof. Seabrook, Katherine went to her side, a cheery smile upon her lips as she greeted her. "I'm so glad, Miss Minturn! Mamma said you were coming, and I've been watching the door ever since dinner. Can you stay a long time?" exclaimed the girl, in glad tones. "Perhaps I am interrupting something interesting," Katherine observed, as she glanced at the book in the professor's hands. "Well, papa has been reading to me, and it was interesting," Dorothy truthfully admitted. "But he has an engagement pretty soon, and is only staying with me till mamma comes back, for Alice is out. Mamma has gone up to see Miss Reynolds. Do you know she is awful sick?" "She is much better to-day. I came from her room only a little while ago," said Katherine, "and I can stay an hour, or more, with you if you like. I will go on with the reading, Prof. Seabrook, if it will relieve you," she added, courteously turning to him. "Oh, I'd rather talk with you," Dorothy interposed. "Mamma can finish the story by and by. Now, papa, you can go and leave me with Miss Minturn." Prof. Seabrook arose. "It is very good of you, Miss Minturn," he said, addressing her with studied politeness. "I do feel anxious to get away to an important appointment. Well, Dorrie, what shall I bring you from the city?" he questioned, as he bent over the girl, his tones softening suddenly to yearning tenderness. "Oh! papa, it's Saturday, you know," she said, with a wise look. "Sure; I almost forgot, and the inevitable cream chocolates for Sunday will have to be forthcoming, I suppose," he laughingly rejoined. "Anything else?" "No, I guess not; only tell Uncle Phil, if you see him, to be sure to come out to-morrow." "Very well," then kissing her fondly, he bowed formally to Katherine and quietly left the room. Ten minutes later Mrs. Seabrook returned, and Katherine persuaded her to go out for a walk, a privilege which the closely confined woman was glad to avail herself of, and Dorothy was soon absorbed in the description of a moonlight fete on the Grand Canal in Venice, and which Katherine had participated in during her recent tour abroad. Meantime Mrs. Seabrook was walking briskly towards the highway, but with a very thoughtful expression on her refined face.