"'Under the spreading chestnut-tree?' Or is it an apple? May I join the
party?"
Redfield Pepper Burns appeared, looking like a schoolboy lately released
from imprisonment. But his face sobered somewhat as his eye fell upon his
friend. It was not that John Leaver had not looked up with a smile, as
Burns approached, nor was it that he now showed physical distress of any
significant sort. A certain hard expression of the deep-set eye told the
story to one who could read signs.
"There's a caller for you at the house, Miss Mathewson," said Burns.
As she went away he dropped down upon the grass near Leaver. "It's at
least five degrees cooler under this tree," said he, "than in any outdoor
spot I've found yet."
"Work must have been trying to-day."
"Rather. But so much worse for my patients that I haven't thought much
about it for myself. At two places I had the satisfaction of personally
seeing to the moving of the invalid from a little six-by-nine inferno of
a bedroom to a big and airy sitting-room. It gave me the keenest pleasure
to see it hurt the tidy housewife, who didn't want her best room mussed
up." He chuckled. "In one case I made her take down the stuffy lace
window-curtains and open things up in great shape. She came near having
a convulsion on the spot. Curious how a certain type of mind regards any
little innovation like that.
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