“The population is increasing, certainly,” the other answered, with a laugh.
“That is what I tell Dr. Russell, and I am quite sure he will do well in time,” Gertrude said, the flush coming into her cheeks again.
“It is a pity he hasn’t got another trade to work at while he is waiting for folks to get sick,” Nell replied, in practical fashion.
Gertrude laughed. “You mustn’t call doctoring a trade; it is a profession, and a man who is a good doctor has no time to be anything else. Nell, shall I tell you a secret?”
“If you like,” the other answered soberly, stealing a look at the glowing face of her companion, and guessing what the secret was about.
Gertrude turned her head away, flicking at the grass with her black parasol. Then she said, in a low unsteady tone—
“I believe that Dr. Russell is going to like me very much some day.”
“So he ought to do,” replied Nell, promptly. “Every one always likes you.”
Gertrude shrugged her shoulders impatiently. “I couldn’t help it because George Miller, our hired man, was always wanting to give me things and take me on walks. I never encouraged him in any way, yet mother was always grumbling at me about it, and saying she did not want me to make a poor marriage, just as if she thought I should be likely to do such a thing.”
“Dr. Russell isn’t rich,” commented Nell.