Heriot's Choice: A Tale

by Rosa Nouchette Carey

'No, no, you must not say so,' throwing her arm round her, only with a sort of bashful pride, very new in Polly; 'he has no one to take care of him but me.'

'Then he shall have our Sunbeam—God bless her!' and Mildred kissed her proudly. 'I hope you did not tell him he was old, Polly.'

'He asked me if I thought him so, and of course I said it was only I who was too young.'

'And what did he say to that?'

'He laughed, and said it was a fault that I should soon mend, but that he meant to be very proud as well as fond of his child-wife. Do you know, he actually thinks me pretty, Aunt Milly.'

'He is right; you are pretty—very pretty, Polly,' she repeated, absently. She was saying in her own heart 'Dr. Heriot's wife—John Heriot's child-wife'—over and over again.

'Roy never would tell me so, because he said it would make me vain. Roy will be glad about this, will he not, Aunt Milly?'

'I do not know; nay, I hope so, my darling.'

'And Richard, and all of them; they are so fond of Dr. Heriot. Do you remember how often they have joked him about Heriot's Choice?'

'Yes, I remember.'