was too bright to be called brown. He was solicitous lest he was
making her walk too fast. "I don't want your brother to think we don't
take care of you in Old Chester," he said; and in the starlight he
could see that her face flushed a little. Then he repeated some Old
Chester gossip, which amused her very much--and held his breath to
listen to the delicious gayety of her laugh.

"There ought to be a better path for you up the hill," he said; "I
must speak to Sam Wright about it." And carefully he flung the
noiseless zigzag of light back and forth in front of her, and told
some more stories that he might hear that laugh again.

When he left her at her own door she said with a sudden impetuous
timidity, "Dr. King, _please_ make Dr. Lavendar give me the little
boy!"

"I will!" he said, and laughed at her radiant face.

It seemed to the doctor as he went down the hill, that he had had a
most delightful evening. He could not recollect what they had talked
about, but he knew that they had agreed on every point. "A very
intelligent lady," he said to himself.

"William," said Martha, looking up from her mending as he entered the
sitting-room, "did you remember to tell Davis that the kitchen sink
leaks?"

"Oh!" said the doctor blankly; "well--I'll tell him in the morning."
Then, smiling vaguely, he dropped down into his shabby old easy-chair,
and watched Martha's darning-needle plod in and out. "Martha," he said