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A Plethora of Happiness.

did not feel able to call, but she charged me to bring you to her at once."

"I shall be truly rejoiced to see my dear schoolmate again," answered Ruth. "But is Angelica an invalid? How strange! When we were girls, at school together,—that's little more than six years ago,—she was the very realization of Moore's

'Young Envoy sent by health,With rosy gifts upon her cheeks.'

She never had an ache or a pain. What ails her? What is her disease?"

"I really cannot say," answered Mr. Willington, with a sigh; "and the doctors don't seem to know. Yet, she is never well; she has lost her strength and spirits, and is a confirmed invalid. I should be eternally indebted to any one who could discover what is the matter with her."

"Suppose I try to win that debt of endless gratitude. I have had quite an extensive experience in the sick room. Perhaps I may discover her ailment."

Mr. Willington's answering smile was one of politeness, not a confiding response to Ruth's proffer. He was too courteous to express his lack of faith in the skill of this unimposing physician in crinoline.

"Angelica is anxiously awaiting you; my carriage is at the door; will you not be ready soon, Miss Merriwether?"

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