true. Where are you going?" as Patty started for the door.
"I am going," said Patty, "to ask Mrs. Richards to give me a new room-mate: one who will understand and appreciate me, and sympathize with my afflictions."
Patty walked gloomily down the corridor, lost in meditation. Her way led past the door of the doctor's office, which was standing invitingly open. Three or four girls were sitting around the room, laughing and talking and waiting their turns. Patty glanced in, and a radiant smile suddenly lightened her face, but it was instantly replaced by a look of settled sadness. She walked in and dropped into an arm-chair with a sigh.
"What's the matter, Patty? You look as if you had melancholia."
Patty smiled apathetically. "Not quite so bad as that," she murmured, and leaned back and closed her eyes.
[Illustration: What's the matter, Patty?]
"Next," said the doctor from the doorway; but as she caught sight of Patty she walked over and shook her arm. "Is this Patty Wyatt? What is the matter with you, child?"
Patty opened her eyes with a start. "Nothing," she said; "I'm just a little tired."
"Come in here with me."
"It's not my turn," objected Patty.
"That makes no difference," returned the doctor.
Patty dropped limply into the consulting-chair.
"Let me see your tongue. Um-m--isn't coated very much. Your pulse seems regular, though possibly a trifle feverish. Have you been working hard?"
"I don't think I've been working any harder than usual," said Patty, truthfully.
"Sitting up late nights?"
Patty considered. "I was up rather late twice last week," she confessed.
"If you girls persist in studying until all hours of the night, I don't know what we doctors can do."
Patty did not think it necessary to explain that it was a Welsh-rabbit party on each occasion, so she merely sighed and looked out of the window.
"Is your appetite good?"
"Yes," said Patty, in a tone which belied the words; "it seems to be very good."
"Um-m," said the doctor.
"I'm just a little tired," pursued Patty, "but I think I shall be all right as soon as I get a chance to rest. Perhaps I need a tonic," she suggested.
"You'd better stay out of classes for a day or two and get thoroughly rested."
"Oh, no," said Patty, in evident perturbation. "Our room is so full of girls all the time that it's really more restful to go to classes; and, besides, I can't stay out just now."
"Why not?" demanded the doctor, suspiciously.
"Well," said Patty, a trifle reluctantly, "I have a good deal to do. I've got to cram for an examination, and--"
The word "cram" was to the doctor as a red rag to a bull. "Nonsense!" she ejaculated. "I know what I shall do with you. You are going right over to the infirmary for a few days--"
"Oh, doctor!" Patty pleaded, with tears in her eyes, "there's truly nothing the matter with me, and I've got to take that examination."
"What examination is it?"
"Old English--Miss Skelling."
"I will see Miss Skelling myself," said the doctor, "and explain that you cannot take the examination until you come out. And now," she added, making a note of Patty's case, "I will have you put in the convalescent ward, and we will try the rest cure for a few days, and feed you up on chicken-broth and egg-nog, and see if we can get that appetite back."
"Thank you," said Patty, with the resigned air of one who has given up struggling against the inevitable.
"I like to see you take an interest in your work," added the doctor, kindly; "but you must always remember, my dear, that health is the first consideration."
Patty returned to the study and executed an impromptu dance in the middle of the floor.
"What's the matter?" exclaimed Priscilla. "Are you crazy?"
"No," said Patty; "only ill." And she went into her bedroom and began slinging things into a dress-suit case.
Priscilla stood in the doorway and watched her in amazement. "Are you going to New York?" she asked.
"No," said Patty; "to the infirmary."
"Patty Wyatt, you're a wretched
"I am going," said Patty, "to ask Mrs. Richards to give me a new room-mate: one who will understand and appreciate me, and sympathize with my afflictions."
Patty walked gloomily down the corridor, lost in meditation. Her way led past the door of the doctor's office, which was standing invitingly open. Three or four girls were sitting around the room, laughing and talking and waiting their turns. Patty glanced in, and a radiant smile suddenly lightened her face, but it was instantly replaced by a look of settled sadness. She walked in and dropped into an arm-chair with a sigh.
"What's the matter, Patty? You look as if you had melancholia."
Patty smiled apathetically. "Not quite so bad as that," she murmured, and leaned back and closed her eyes.
[Illustration: What's the matter, Patty?]
"Next," said the doctor from the doorway; but as she caught sight of Patty she walked over and shook her arm. "Is this Patty Wyatt? What is the matter with you, child?"
Patty opened her eyes with a start. "Nothing," she said; "I'm just a little tired."
"Come in here with me."
"It's not my turn," objected Patty.
"That makes no difference," returned the doctor.
Patty dropped limply into the consulting-chair.
"Let me see your tongue. Um-m--isn't coated very much. Your pulse seems regular, though possibly a trifle feverish. Have you been working hard?"
"I don't think I've been working any harder than usual," said Patty, truthfully.
"Sitting up late nights?"
Patty considered. "I was up rather late twice last week," she confessed.
"If you girls persist in studying until all hours of the night, I don't know what we doctors can do."
Patty did not think it necessary to explain that it was a Welsh-rabbit party on each occasion, so she merely sighed and looked out of the window.
"Is your appetite good?"
"Yes," said Patty, in a tone which belied the words; "it seems to be very good."
"Um-m," said the doctor.
"I'm just a little tired," pursued Patty, "but I think I shall be all right as soon as I get a chance to rest. Perhaps I need a tonic," she suggested.
"You'd better stay out of classes for a day or two and get thoroughly rested."
"Oh, no," said Patty, in evident perturbation. "Our room is so full of girls all the time that it's really more restful to go to classes; and, besides, I can't stay out just now."
"Why not?" demanded the doctor, suspiciously.
"Well," said Patty, a trifle reluctantly, "I have a good deal to do. I've got to cram for an examination, and--"
The word "cram" was to the doctor as a red rag to a bull. "Nonsense!" she ejaculated. "I know what I shall do with you. You are going right over to the infirmary for a few days--"
"Oh, doctor!" Patty pleaded, with tears in her eyes, "there's truly nothing the matter with me, and I've got to take that examination."
"What examination is it?"
"Old English--Miss Skelling."
"I will see Miss Skelling myself," said the doctor, "and explain that you cannot take the examination until you come out. And now," she added, making a note of Patty's case, "I will have you put in the convalescent ward, and we will try the rest cure for a few days, and feed you up on chicken-broth and egg-nog, and see if we can get that appetite back."
"Thank you," said Patty, with the resigned air of one who has given up struggling against the inevitable.
"I like to see you take an interest in your work," added the doctor, kindly; "but you must always remember, my dear, that health is the first consideration."
Patty returned to the study and executed an impromptu dance in the middle of the floor.
"What's the matter?" exclaimed Priscilla. "Are you crazy?"
"No," said Patty; "only ill." And she went into her bedroom and began slinging things into a dress-suit case.
Priscilla stood in the doorway and watched her in amazement. "Are you going to New York?" she asked.
"No," said Patty; "to the infirmary."
"Patty Wyatt, you're a wretched
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