Young people seem to be discarding their patron
saint."
"Oh, no, indeed, father," answered May. "We have got beyond hearts and
darts and lace-paper affairs; but cast your judicial eye over that
table at all I have received to-day: books and music and boxes of
candy and no end of flowers."
"Where is your share, Alida?" asked the judge, kindly, peering over
his eye-glasses at his youngest daughter. "What did St. Valentine
bring you?"
"Nothing," answered Alida, rising suddenly to leave the room, lest he
should notice the tears she could not force back. "He's like everybody
else," she added, bitterly, as she reached the door. "He doesn't care
for homely people."
The judge looked annoyed. "I wish she were not so self-conscious and
sensitive!" he exclaimed.
"She hasn't seemed well for some time," said her mother,
apologetically. "It might be a wise thing to have the doctor see her
soon. The next time Agnes drops in I shall speak to her."
"If the child is ailing, have her come at once," said the judge,
decidedly, and a few minutes later he was at the telephone, sending a
message for Doctor Agnes Mayne to call that evening, if possible.
Instead of going to her own room, Alida opened the door of the old
nursery, turned on the gas, and began searching through closets and
drawers.
Pages:
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36