Between his office hours and his patients, Polly saw but little of her father; for Dr. Adams was the popular physician of the large, quiet, old New England town where they lived. A man who had grown up among books, and among thinking, wide-awake people, he was a worthy descendant of the two presidents with whom he claimed kinship. He was a strong, fine-looking man, so full of quiet energy that his very presence in the sick-room was encouraging to the invalid; and he had come to be at once the friend, physician, and adviser of every family in town, whether rich or poor. If his patients could afford to pay him for his visits, very well; if not, it was just as well, for neither Dr. Adams nor his wife desired to be rich. To live comfortably themselves, to lay up a little for the future, and to be able to help their poorer neighbors, now and then,--this was all they wished, and this was easily accomplished. In past years, two or three other doctors had settled in the town; but after a few months of trial they had closed their offices and gone away, because not one of Dr. Adams's patients could be tempted to leave him, and his lively black horse and shabby buggy were seen flying about the streets, while their shiny new carriages either stood idle in their stables, or were taken out for an occasional pleasure drive. If Polly had been asked what was her greatest trial, her answer, truthful and emphatic, would have been: "Aunt Jane." It was a mystery to her as, indeed, it was to every one else, how two sisters could be so unlike. Mrs. Adams was a pretty, graceful little woman, with a dainty charm about her, and a winning, off- hand manner, which made her a favorite with both young and old. Aunt Jane Roberts was tall and thin, with a cast-iron sort of countenance, surmounted by a row of little, tight, gray frizzles of such remarkable durability that, though evidently the result of art rather than nature, neither wind nor storm, appeared to have any effect upon them. On festal occasions it was her habit to adorn herself with a symmetrical little blue satin bow, placed above these curls and slightly to one side; but there was nothing in the least flippant or coquettish about this decoration, for it was as precise and unvarying as the gray frizz below it, and only seemed to intensify the hard, unyielding lines of her face.