"I think the boy feels alone, sometimes," said Mrs. Barnett. "He has
really a great deal to contend with. But he is a splendid fellow, and I'm
sorry for him. Every one loves him in Sweetapple Cove, you know."

Presently the two left us, after I had promised to go to the little
church on the next day. Susie had come in with a lighted lantern, clad to
her feet in an ancient oilskin coat, and insisted on seeing them home.
They thanked us very charmingly and I watched their departure, the
reflections of the light playing over the deep puddles on the road.

Then I sat down by Daddy's bed, pondering.

"A penny for your thoughts, daughter," he said.

"I was thinking that men are very interesting," I told him. "Dr. Grant
always looks like such a strong man."

"And now you think you have discovered the feet of clay?"

"Well, it seemed quite strange, Daddy."

"I'll tell you one thing, girly," he said. "Never make the fatal error of
thinking any one is perfect. It is a mistake that young people are rather
apt to indulge in. There are little weak points, and sometimes big ones,
in all of us."

"I suppose so," I assented, "but these were such dreadful things he told
us about. It seems so terrible that they should happen at all. It has
made me feel unhappy. I thought that doctors got used to such things."