"In the estimation of my very partial lover doctor," laughed Grace.
"Ah, yes; and in that of many others. The lover is craving a tête-à-tête with his best beloved, but the doctor knows she should at once retire to her couch of rest. Good-night, darling. Only a week now till I can claim you for my very own."
"Good-night, my best and dearest of physicians; I will follow your prescription, as has been my wont in the past," returned Grace, gently withdrawing her hand from his grasp, then gliding into the hall and up the stairway, while Harold passed out to the veranda, where the captain and Violet, arm in arm, were pacing to and fro, chatting cosily of what they had been doing and were still to do to make the morrow a specially happy day to their children and servants. They paused in their walk at sight of Harold.
"You are not going to leave us to-night?" they asked.
"Yes; I have a patient to visit, and must hasten, for it is growing late."
"Well, come in as early as you can to-morrow," said Violet, and the captain seconded the invitation warmly.
"You may be sure I will do that," laughed Harold, "for both the enjoyment of your society and the good of my patients here. Au revoir."
"Dear fellow!" exclaimed Violet, looking after him as he moved with his firm, elastic tread down the driveway and through the great gates into the road beyond; "he is worth his weight in gold, both as brother and physician, I think."
"And I am pretty much of the same opinion," smiled the captain. "Now shall we go upstairs and oversee the doings of Santa Claus with those stockings?"
"Yes; for I presume the youthful owners of the stockings are already safe from disturbance in the Land of Nod. Will Grace hang her stocking up, do you think?"