THE PASSING OF HOPE ABBOTT.
MISS HERRICK looked at the card rather critically. She was fastidious, and its appearance did not please her. She turned it over doubtfully, and read again the name engraved on its rather worn surface—Miss Hope Abbott. There was no address.
"I don't know the woman," she said reflectively. "I can't even remember having heard the name before. Thank her for her sympathy, Thomas, and say I regret that I am not yet quite well enough to receive calls."
The bell-boy departed with the message, and Miss Herrick turned to the trained nurse who was still with her, but whose mission now was to amuse the patient and save her from her friends. "I suppose you would n't have allowed me to see her in any case, you tyrant," she said affectionately; "but it does n't matter, for I can't imagine who she is or what she wants. Perhaps she has come on business."
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