Miss Leonard, without relaxing a muscle of her grim face, immediately filled out a check for double the amount and passed it to him. Dr. Minot looked at it and knit his brows. He had expected that she would object to even the small sum he had named. “I think you have made a mistake, madam,” he remarked; “the amount I stated was exactly half of what you have written here.” “Excuse me, sir, if I have burdened you,” the woman replied, with exaggerated politeness, “but charity should be extended to those who need it. If I have overpaid you, pray use the surplus for such objects.” Dr. Minot pocketed the check without further comment, but he shook hands cordially with his patient as he took his leave, and went out with a peculiar smile on his honest face. “She’s like a chestnut in some respects, I imagine,” he muttered; “you’ll generally find a good kernel if you can get inside the burr, but it takes either frost or hard knocks to accomplish that.” The following morning Miss Leonard asked Salome if she would be willing to accompany her upon an extended trip. Salome expressed a cheerful willingness to do so. Indeed she had begun to fear that she had made a mistake in remaining in New York, for she was liable to meet Dr. Winthrop when he should return, and she felt that she should never have strength for such an encounter. “Where do you propose to go?” she asked of Miss Leonard. “Well, that doctor of yours”—this with a little significant emphasis—“thought I’d better try a sea-voyage if I had the courage for it, and I’ve about made up my mind that I will take a run over to England and France if you and Harriet will go with me. It’s many years since I visited Europe.” Harriet, who was really attached to her mistress, in spite of her peculiarities, was ready to go anywhere she desired, and the date of their departure was fixed for the first of June. During the few weeks previous to their start Miss Leonard continued to improve physically and spiritually. It really seemed as if her illness had changed her nature, for she was kinder and more considerate toward every one, while she exhibited a constantly increasing fondness for Salome. They rode together every morning when the weather was fine; during the evening they entertained themselves with reading, music, and backgammon, and every day grew more fond of each other. One night, after they had spent an unusually pleasant evening, Salome approached Miss Leonard as she was about to retire, and said, while a soft flush arose to her cheeks. “Dear Miss Leonard, while you were ill I never went away to rest without kissing you good-night, for some times I was afraid I should not find you when I came back. May I keep up the custom now that you are well?” She held up her lips as she ceased speaking, and they were so tremulously sweet and tempting that the woman involuntarily stooped and gave her the caress she craved.