"I wanted her to say it. That's why I uttered the too, too utter-things, as the comic opera says. What else was there to do? I had to help cure her."
"To cure her of what, miss?"
"Of herself, doctor-man."
The Young Doctor's look became graver. He wondered greatly at this young girl's sage instinct and penetration. "Of herself? Ah, yes, to think more of some one else than herself! That is—"
"Yes, that is love," Kitty answered, her head bent over the pail and stirring the potatoes hard.
"I suppose it is," he answered.
"I know it is," she returned.
"Is that why you are going to be married?" he asked quizzically.
"It will probably cure the man I marry of himself," she retorted. "Oh, neither of us know what we are talking about—let's change the subject!" she added impatiently now, with a change of mood, as she poured the water off the potatoes.
There was a moment's silence in which they were both thinking of the same thing. "I wonder how it's all going inside there?" he remarked. "I hope all right, but I have my doubts."