"Now, mother, what made you? I wanted to tell daddy myself. Oh, daddy, he's the dearest person in the world!" Then as Elizabeth caught the hurt, bewildered look in her father's eyes she perched on his knee in the old familiar fashion. "It seems sudden--to you, I know," she murmured; "but really it isn't, daddy; as he will tell you if he can ever find you at home to talk to. Why, we've known each other since last summer!" "I'm afraid I'm very stupid, child; but I don't believe I understand. You don't mean to tell me that you have been thinking of--of getting married and to a man I don't know even." Dr. North shook his head decidedly. "But you do know him, daddy; he's been here ever so many times. Of course"--she added with a touch of laughing malice--"he's perfectly well, and you seldom notice well people, even when they're in your own family." "I don't have time, Bess," admitted the doctor soberly, "there are too many of the other sort. But now about this young man--Brewster--eh? You have him come 'round in office hours, say, and I'll----" "Now, daddy, _please_ don't straighten out your mouth like that; it isn't a bit becoming. Naturally you've got the sweetest, kindest look in the world, and you mustn't spoil it, especially when you are talking about Sam." The doctor pinched his daughter's pink ear. "I'm sorry to appear such an ogre," he said with a touch of grimness, "but I know too much about the world in general, and the business of getting married in particular, to allow my one daughter to go into it blindly. I'll be obliged to make the young man's further acquaintance, Bess, before we talk about an engagement." The girl's scarlet lips were set in firm lines, which strongly resembled the paternal expression to which she had objected; she kissed her father dutifully. "I want you to get acquainted with him, daddy," she said sweetly; "but we _are_ engaged." That same afternoon Dr. North, looking worried and anxious after a prolonged conference with the village hypochrondriac, who had come to the office fully charged with symptoms of a new and distinguished disease lately imported from Europe, found himself face to face with a tall, fresh-faced young man. This new visitor came into the office bringing with him a breath of the wintry air and a general appearance of breezy health which caused the hypochondriac to look up sourly in the act of putting on her rubbers. "If that new medicine doesn't relieve that terrible feelin' in my epigastrium, doctor--an' I don't believe it's a-goin' to--I'll let you know," she remarked acidly. "You needn't be surprised to be called most any time between now an' mornin'; for, as I told Mr. Salter, I ain't a-goin' to suffer as I did last night for nobody." "_Good_-afternoon, Mrs. Salter," said the doctor emphatically. "Now then, young man, what can I do for you?"