"And how many years older, and how much taller was my Cora, when I took her from her mother? You will never know how I loved you for taking the friendless child so closely to your heart. I had looked forward with the hope that God would bless our union, and give us children; but I had not thought of finding one so soon. I have often laughed to myself," he continued, "at the remark dear, good aunt Susy made about my being so impatient 'for a darter I had to pick one up in the streets, and give to you.' Good old soul! She hit pretty near the truth, certainly. Seldom has anything given me greater pleasure than when you taught the little creature to say 'Papa,' and you blushed so rosy too. I dared not say much; I feared you might grow weary of the care. I had not then learned all I have since. But when I saw you give up many pleasures to devote yourself to the little motherless child, and particularly when I witnessed year after year your care of her education, I have felt that you would have your reward." _Monday, September 23rd_. Mother and I are now obliged to exert our authority. The Doctor is as hungry as a bear, and says he will not be kept on slops any longer. He spoke so much like a child begging for some cake, or bread and butter, that I had a hearty laugh at him. But though he could not keep from laughing in sympathy, yet he says, "it is a very serious matter; Dr. Clapp has been starving me for a month past, and now I intend to have something to eat." Mother promised him a slice of toast for his dinner, and he asked half a dozen times in the course of an hour if it were not dinner time. At length I gave him the watch that he might see for himself. When Pauline brought the toast and tea, he entered upon the discussion of them with such a grave face, as if it were of such solemn importance, that Pauline and I had enough to do to keep from laughing aloud, which in the present state of his nerves would never do. Mother says, "it's always a good sign when children are worrysome." But the Doctor did not take this speech at all well, and said with a grieved look, "I was not aware I had given occasion for such a remark." _Wednesday, September 25th._ We have had war in the camp. But I must explain. I noticed this morning that Phebe was cooking something very savory, but thought no more of it. Mother, Pauline, or I, have always remained with the Doctor while the others are at dinner. To-day I thought I would remain; but Frank would not consent. Pauline said, "No, mamma, I'll attend to father," at the same time I saw that she was very much flushed and looked really distressed. Frank insisted she should remain, and I went below, wondering not a little at the meaning of all this. After I had carved for the others, I thought so much of Pauline's looks, that I excused myself a moment, and ran softly back to the room.