"Indeed, and she just do dote on 'em," answered the mother, in a loud tone,
for the blushing child.
"So do I," responded Ruth; and leaning farther forward, she put them in the
little hand.
But the child's hand did not close over them, and the large eyes turned
piteously to her mother.
"It's paralyzed she is," hurriedly explained the mother. "Shall Mamma hold
the beautiful roses for ye, darlint?"
"Please," answered the childish treble.
Ruth hesitated a second, and then rising and bending over her said, --
"No; I know of a better way. Wouldn't you like to have me fasten them in
your belt? There, now you can smell them all the time."
"Roses is what she likes mostly," proceeded the mother, garrulously, "and
she's for giving the doctor one every time she can when he comes. Faith!
it's about all he do get for his goodness, for what with--"
The sudden opening of the folding-door interrupted her flow of talk.
Seeing the doctor standing on the threshold as a signal for the next in
waiting to come forward, the poor woman arose preparatory to helping her
child into the consulting-room.
"Let me help Mamie, Mrs. O'Brien," said he, coming toward her. At the same
moment the elegant-looking woman rose from her chair and swept toward him.
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