"No, no; quite right," said he. "But, all the same, I like him, Kate. He's a nice young fellow, I do believe." "I don't!" mother said to herself; and she spoke no more. She never would argue with father, and wisely, too. Nobody is convinced by arguing. Well, it was perhaps an hour later still, and getting dark, when mother called to me. And when I ran in, there was a dreadful sight! The bleeding had come on afresh, almost as much as ever. Miss Russell did look bad. "Send or go for the doctor, Kitty, and don't lose a moment!" says mother, and I rushed off, only stopping to seize my hat. There was nobody at hand to be sent just then, and I could not wait to find any one. The doctor was out, but the servant promised to let him know as quick as possible. CHAPTER IV. TWICE GOOD-BYE! MARY RUSSELL was as near as possible gone that night. I'd better stop calling her "Miss Russell:" for mother always spoke to her as "Mary" by that time, and she had told me to do the same, though I wasn't altogether in the way of it yet. Mother would not let me sit up late, but I was down early next morning. Needful enough I should: for there was everything to do, and mother not able to be five minutes out of the sick-room. The doctor came in before breakfast, and he seemed better satisfied; but she wasn't to stir nor to speak, and the brother wasn't to be let in. "No, certainly not! keep him out!" Mr. Baitson said, speaking quite sharp, when mother asked. I was puzzled to hear him, for Mr. Baitson wasn't given to speaking sharp. At five o'clock I left my bed, and I worked hard too; so things were well on by the time father had done his breakfast. I had to go upstairs then for a time; and when I came downstairs I wanted a bit of parsley from the garden, and I ran out. It was a lovely morning; all a blaze of sun-shine, and such a blue sky overhead. Every leaf was sprinkled with big drops of dew wherever there was shade; and the birds were singing like wild. It did seem sad that the poor thing indoors should suffer so much. I stood still a moment, thinking of her, with a feeling as if it was selfish of me to enjoy the sweet air as I did. Then I saw the morning express was signalled, and I waited to see it rush thundering past, though there was no need this time for me to wave a red flag of warning. When the train was gone, I thought I would take one little run to the end of the path on the top of the embankment, just to freshen up myself for the rest of my work. I was so used to a breath of fresh air early, when mother could spare me. So I ran, not looking ahead; and all at once I found myself close to Mr. Russell. He was sitting on the bench beside the gate; the same bench where I had found mother's red shawl that other day. He seemed perfectly wretched. I never saw any man look more miserable than he did just then, dropping the corners of his mouth, and hanging his head, as if he'd got no spirit to sit up.