As the doctor went in at his gate one day he found a gypsy-looking woman at the front door selling, or endeavoring to sell, baskets to Miss Robertson; but that young lady had the good sense never to buy what she did not need, and also she had an idea of the value of household articles (both qualifications of the good wife in an ordinary way), and knew that the woman was asking three prices for her goods: at least, in the end she was ready and even anxious to take a third of what she had first named as the price of her wares. And as Dr. Brunton came on the scene she was saying, "Or if ye hae ony auld coat o' the maister's, I'll gie ye the choice o' my baskets for 't." "What is it? What are you about?" said the doctor as he came toward them. "I was just sayin' to yer wife, sir, that if--" "My wife!" said Dr. Brunton, laughing: "I have no wife, and don't want one." "Ay but, sir," said the woman, taking the solemn oracular tone of a sibyl, being in the habit of combining fortune-telling with basket-selling if she thought she saw an opportunity, "it'll no be as ye like: it'll be as it's ordained. A bonnie lassie'll maybe ask ye yet, an' ye'll no say na; an' I could tell ye mair about it if ye want to hear." "Come, move off," said the doctor, tossing a coin to her, "and try some better trade." "If I had been a beauty," said Miss Robertson, "I should have thought the woman personal, and have taken offence." "Why," said he, looking at her as if to form an opinion, "you're well enough." Now in her heart Miss Robertson thought she looked considerably better than well enough, but Dr. Brunton was honest and said just what he thought. "Well enough for what?" she asked. "Oh, well enough in the way of looks, I mean." "But not so intensely beautiful as to be justified in making a matrimonial offer?" "You can exercise your discretion as to that." "Indiscretion perhaps?" she said. "Either," said he. III. "I think, Mary," Miss Robertson said to her friend, "you don't need to be afraid of your brother marrying in a hurry." "Afraid?" said Mary. "Yes. Now, confess you wouldn't like it. You would not like to be shunted, you know." "Well I should not, but I should like to see him happy, and if he got a good wife--" "Ay, but what wife would you think good enough for him? There's the rub." "I hope he'll be wisely guided," Mary said. "So do I; but, as I said, I don't think you need be afraid: he won't be in a hurry--he does not even care for a flirtation." "Oh no: my brother is always in earnest whatever he does--in thorough earnest. I don't think he could even imagine such a thing as a flirtation." "Well, he is very much stupider than I take him to be if he couldn't." "He is not stupid: it is the want of stupidity or silliness that makes trifling of that kind impossible to him," said Mary.