“Oh—nothing,” Erica returned in a flat tone, and sprang to her feet in relief as her aunt entered the room, followed by Lis. She was suddenly and vehemently surer than ever that never had she met so disagreeable and utterly aggravating a girl as this dark, silent, aloof young person with whom she was expected to live on terms of close intimacy for perhaps years and _years_ to come. And then, swiftly, she remembered Aunt Charity again, and catching at Mrs. Folger’s arm with cold, frightened fingers, hurried her out of the house and across the lawn next door. The petty annoyance of Milly’s unfriendliness was completely swallowed up for the time being in the larger worry. CHAPTER XI Much against Miss Charity Folger’s will, her sister-in-law insisted on sending Lis for the doctor. “Maybe it’s nothing but being overtired, as you say, sister,” she observed, wisely, “but it won’t do a speck of harm to hear what the doctor thinks. You run on over to Doc Spencer’s, Lister, and fetch him back with you.” Dr. Spencer, who had known the whole Folger family since the elder members of it were the ages of Erica and Lis themselves, arrived promptly a few minutes later, and proceeded to make a careful examination of Miss Charity. At the end of it he sat back in the straight chair by the bed, and looked gravely from his patient to Mrs. Callie Folger. “There’s nothing to be scared about, if we take care,” he said at length, in reply to the two pairs of inquiring eyes fastened on his face. “But ye’ve got to make up your mind to take a good rest, Miss Charity, and there’s the long and short of it. I was never one to mince matters with my patients. Better tell the truth plainly, and then everybody knows where they stand.” “It’s—my heart, Doctor?” Miss Charity asked, steadily. He nodded kindly. “It’s not acting just like I’d prefer to have it,” he admitted. “Still, there’s nothing so serious rest an’ care can’t set it right. But no more housework, or runnin’ upstairs and down—for the present at any rate. Let Ricky, here, take the helm. She’s ‘most a woman now. Ain’t ye, young lady?” he demanded, swiftly, of Erica, with a smile. She was a great favorite of his, and he invariably took her side when her aunts deplored, in his hearing, her tomboy ways, which were so unlike what was considered fitting and ladylike in that day and generation, for a girl. “Of course I’ll take care of her, Doctor,” Erica spoke up, sturdily. “I can dust and sweep well enough, if I have to, and I love to cook—so I’ll be all right _there_, in any case.” “Oh, but Erica must go to school till the term ends,” Miss Charity said with all her old firmness, half raising herself from the pillow. “Callie and I’ll talk things over—make other arrangements—” Her voice grew less steady and sure of itself, and with the last word trailed off into a rather breathless murmur.