"Oh, Jane," Susan cried, "how I have enjoyed hearing about everybody in town! Sister never told me about Eddy King's running off with the store cash or Mrs. Wilton's daughter going to cooking-school, or one thing." "We must be going," said Mrs. Mead, rising; "we'll come again, though. It's good to see you up, Mrs. Ralston, and I only hope you may stay up. You know Katie Croft's mother-in-law got up just as you have and then had a stroke that night." "Oh, is old Mrs. Croft dead?" "No, she isn't," said Mrs. Mead; "if she was, she wouldn't be such a warning as she is." "Dear, dear," said Susan, "think of all I've missed. Has she got it just in her legs or all over? Matilda never told me." "Legs," said Mrs. Mead, "and it's affected her temper. Katie has an awful time with her." "Dear, dear," said Susan again,--"and, oh, Jane, a boy I've known since he was a baby has had his skull japanned and nearly died. Matilda's never told me a thing!" "Well, she didn't know much, you know," said Mrs. Mead; "she kept herself about as close as she kept you. We were given to understand pretty plainly that we weren't wanted to call." "Think of that now," said Susan, "and me up-stairs, feeling all my friends had forgot me!" "Everybody'll come now," said Mrs. Mead; "folks will be glad to see you so well. We were told you never got up and hardly ate enough to keep a cat." "An ordinary cat," corrected Emily; "Miss Matilda's always told what a lot your cat ate." "He is an eater," said Susan, crinkling a bit about the eyes; "but I eat, too, now, I can tell you." After they were gone, Jane came back into the sitting-room. Her aunt was standing by the window. "It's so beautiful to be down-stairs," she said, without turning. "My goodness, and to think that only a week ago I laid up-stairs wanting to die." "You can thank Aunt Matilda that you didn't die," said Jane, going and putting her arm around her. "If she had kept you thinking of all the illnesses in town, you'd have died long ago. Sick thoughts are more catching than diseases. But we don't need to talk of that now." "No, indeed we don't," said Susan, "for there's Mr. Rath coming." Jane gave a little start. "I wonder what for," she said. "What for!" Susan's tone was full of deep meaning; "why, he's fallen dead in love with you, Jane, that's what it means, and I don't wonder, for you're the nicest girl I ever saw." "Oh, Auntie!" said Jane, quite red. "The very idea!" CHAPTER VI LORENZO RATH IT wasn't to be supposed for a minute that Lorenzo Rath, a real live young man and an artist, shouldn't take first place in the town talk. Jane's remarkable religion might attract the attention of a few who were sufficiently religious themselves to be naturally shocked over the waffles and depressed over the invalid's recovery, but Lorenzo was of interest to every one.