Tolbridge sat down at her desk to
finish the writing of the letter which had been so abruptly broken off
the day before. She had been very busy that afternoon and a part of this
morning, assisting Mrs. Drane and her daughter in their removal from a
hot street in a little town to the broad freedom and fine air of a
spacious country home.
And this change had given so much pleasure to all parties concerned that
it was natural that so good a woman as Mrs. Tolbridge should feel a glow
of satisfaction in thinking of the part she had taken in it.
She was satisfied in more ways than one: it was agreeable to her to
assist in giving pleasure to others, but besides this, she had a little
satisfaction which was peculiarly her own; she was pleased that that very
pretty and attractive Cicely would now work for the doctor, instead of
working so much with him. Of course she was willing to give up the little
room if it were needed, but it was a great deal pleasanter not to have
it needed.
"It is so seldom," she thought, as she lifted the lid of her desk, "that
things can be arranged so as to please everybody.
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