"Doctor," said she, affecting all of a sudden a little air of small sprightliness, very small, "now, do--you--think--it would do your patient--the least good in the world--if you were to take him this?"

She handed him her work, and then she blushed divinely.

"I think it might do him a great deal of good."

"You could say I painted it for him."

"So I will. That will do him no harm neither. Shall I say I found you crying over it?"

"Oh, no! no! That would make him cry too, perhaps."

"Ah, I forgot that. Grace, you are an angel."

"Ah, no. But you can tell him I am--if you think so. That will do him no great harm--will it?"