Perhaps it was never before made known, but when I graduated I received a very delightful letter from Doctor Longstreet inviting me to come to Oldmeadow and really learn something about medicine! Meanwhile I was to gradually assume his practise so he might have the more time for his river.
"Then," he concluded, "when I shall have taken my immortal rod and crossed the river—praise God not into Indiana, but to some Virginia-like country, where pills are out of fashion and the only restriction worthy of mention is that the truth must needs be told about the fish you catch—you will have everything your own way here."
I might here mention that the only thing the old gentleman had against the river was that it did not flow between Virginia and Kentucky.
"Think of it," he would ejaculate; "so beautiful a river as ours and the Yankees north of it! It will be different in the next world. Then Virginia shall be on one bank and Kentucky on the other. And Yankee Indiana—" But why speak here of the place to which Indiana is duly consigned for eternity.
At any rate, with a grateful and happy heart I accepted the invitation so generously given me by Doctor Longstreet and, in due time, promptly arrived ready for business.
I had been home less than two weeks. A great deal of this time, it is true, I had given to getting settled in the office of Doctor Longstreet. I had dined once with Nance, however, and had taken part in a few scrappy conversations. There was a slight reservedness upon her part toward me which seemed to be largely because of the almost continuous absence of several years. This I believed would shortly wear off.
One late afternoon we were strolling about her yard and talking of many things: of herself when she would permit it, of Jean François, of Monsieur l'Abbé Picot, and the happenings of Oldmeadow. Finally we leaned against the fence and gazed across the street at the silent old house of the pillars. Its owner was away and the place looked lonely.
"Well, I'm quite grown up now," smiled Nance jestingly, "and still I have not come into my possessions.... I wonder when, Charles?" she asked, much in her old-time manner.
"When this blessed old village that we have owned for so very long," I replied, with a meaning glance toward my shining new instrument case and pill-bag, which I always carried with me, "increases my collection of patients."