Miss Kingscott assented, of course. She saw his embarrassment, and wished to lead him on to an _eclaircissement_; but she could scarcely refrain herself from smiling at the ludicrous endeavours of the doctor to hide his nervousness, which was unmistakeably increasing. "Yes, madam, it's a fine day; but hot, madam. Don't you think so?" "Certainly, doctor, I think it is warm," answered the lady, confirmatively. And, indeed, any one looking into his face could not but agree with the remark. "Warm, madam, is no term for it, it is confoundedly hot! But I beg your pardon, madam, were you ever in love?" he blurted out abruptly, after a great effort, bolting into his subject, as it were. "Good gracious me, doctor?" said Miss Kingscott, with a charmingly acted surprise, and blushing embarrassment. "What a strange question for you to ask!" "Not at all, madam--not at all. I said the weather was hot. Don't you see, madam? and it is hot. I asked you about love--and love is hot. There's my proposition, you see the connection between the two?" And the doctor's face glowed with perspiration. "I do not follow your argument," said the governess, calmly. "You seem to arrive very rapidly at your deductions; but what has the result to do with me?" she asked, with ingenuous innocence. "A good deal, madam--a good deal. How fearfully warm it is! You see, madam, before you an old man." "Not so very old, doctor, I'm sure," she interrupted, looking bewitchingly into his perspiring countenance. "Well, well," he continued, in a gratified tone, "perhaps not exactly an old man; but I'm not a young one. Still, if it wasn't for the confounded gout, I daresay I should be as young and skittish as the best of them." "Oh! I'm so sorry for that horrid gout--and I do pity you so when I see you in pain," condoled Miss Kingscott, thinking of the doctor being "skittish," as if she had heard of an elephant dancing a hornpipe. "Are you really--do you really?" he asked eagerly, a flush of joy overspreading his already flushed and perspiring face. "Well, I tell you what, madam, I'm in love." And the doctor heaved a portentous and languishing sigh, which quivered through his colossal frame which shook like a mould of jelly. "Are you really, doctor? I am sure I hope the young lady is nice, for your sake; and I hope she will make you a good wife," she replied, ignoring the doctor's nervousness until she got him to the point. "You are very kind, madam, very kind; but you are always kind--you can't help it, for it is in your nature. Infernally hot, is it not, madam?" "Very warm," said the lady, encouragingly. "Bless my soul! madam, so it is. But, madam, Miss Kingscott that is--" "Well?" she encouraged him, her eyes sparkling with ill-concealed fun at the doctor's predicament. "You sly little creature! Why, you are laughing at me all the time!" "Oh! dear no; but who's the young lady, doctor? You have not told me her name yet, and I'm dying to know."