philosophers have done that - could not help having as much
interest in the return of his old ward and pupil as if it had been
a serious event. So he sat himself down in his easy-chair again,
stretched out his slippered feet once more upon the rug, read the
letter over and over a great many times, and talked it over more
times still.

'Ah! The day was,' said the Doctor, looking at the fire, 'when you
and he, Grace, used to trot about arm-in-arm, in his holiday time,
like a couple of walking dolls. You remember?'

'I remember,' she answered, with her pleasant laugh, and plying her
needle busily.

'This day month, indeed!' mused the Doctor. 'That hardly seems a
twelve month ago. And where was my little Marion then!'

'Never far from her sister,' said Marion, cheerily, 'however
little. Grace was everything to me, even when she was a young
child herself.'

'True, Puss, true,' returned the Doctor. 'She was a staid little
woman, was Grace, and a wise housekeeper, and a busy, quiet,
pleasant body; bearing with our humours and anticipating our
wishes, and always ready to forget her own, even in those times. I
never knew you positive or obstinate, Grace, my darling, even then,
on any subject but one.'

'I am afraid I have changed sadly for the worse, since,' laughed
Grace, still busy at her work. 'What was that one, father?'