"A little, Joseph."
Another silence.
"To-morrow, did thee say, we would go home?"
"Yes, to-morrow."
He shut his eyes to sleep.
"Kiss him," said the Doctor to her. "It will make him more certain."
Her face grew crimson.
"He has not asked me yet," she said.
Sometime early in the summer, nearly four years after, Miss Defourchet came down to make her uncle another visit,—a little thinned and jaded with her winter's work, and glad of the daily ride into the fresh country-air. One morning, the Doctor, jumping into the barouche beside her, said,—
"We'll make a day of it, Mary,—spend it with some old friends of ours. They are such wholesome, natural people, it refreshes me to be with them when I am tired."