“I have spoken out to you,” I said, hanging to her neck; “and now you must take care of me.” She saw that T’férgore was approaching the house; and her face filled with tender solicitude is the last thing I can recall as I fainted. PART III THE AMBROSIAL YOUTH “His flesh is angel’s flesh, all alive.” “Honor to the house where they are simple to the verge of hardship, so that there the intellect is awake and reads the laws of the universe, the soul worships truth and love, honor and courtesy flow into all deeds.” EMERSON. September weather was over the world before I felt able to be carried out-of-doors. I had been very ill, but at my worst I remember having Jennie on my mind, and hanging to her hand while I pleaded over and over the cause of the little child. Now, though weak, I had reached a state of rapturous convalescence, and reached it quite suddenly. Julian lifted me out to the shaded lawn, where Jennie had wadded a rocking-chair with pillows. The leaves were turning, but none had fallen. Lena’s birds hanging in a row along the eaves of the porch kept it up at a great rate, the canary seeming to recognize me and give me the name he had long since invented for me: turning his head and calling through the bars, “Maë, Maë!” Lena and Fritz came around the corner of the house and grinned. Lena had saved the biggest pear on the dwarf tree for me, and Fritz brought a nosegay of marigolds, strong enough to stifle many invalids. “It’s quite like a Harvest Home,” said Julian. “We ought to strap a corn-shock on Leander’s back and lead him in the procession.” Then Jennie went into the house to bring out T’férgore. Jennie was not only my doctor, but she had turned up her sleeves and showed Lena how to cook the dishes I could eat. She had discharged two nurses, one after the other, and relied on herself and Lena’s help, and Julian’s solicitude. “You never know what a woman is until you try her in a family crisis,” said Julian, sitting down near me. “I wasn’t enamored of your Dr. Purdy before, but I’ll say this of her now: she has the coolest head, the readiest hand, and the largest fund of domestic skill of any woman I ever saw.” “I always told you that,” said I in a superior tone. “She’s stayed by us to the neglect of her city practice, I’m afraid,” said Julian. “She is just getting into practice,” I assured him, “and before coming out here announced her intention of leaving town for a change. It has been a severe change, though.” “But a man has been here importuning her about something.” I took hold of the arms of my chair. “What kind of a man, Julian?” “Oh, an ordinary person. Nothing striking about him. I thought he looked very sulky the last time he went away.” “Jennie was short with him, was she?”