mentally styled a “lucky dog,” in that he was not obliged to appear again in the parlors, unless he chose. The doctor knew Maddy did not require his presence after the first half hour, but he insisted upon her being sent to bed, and then went frequently to her door, until assured by Mrs. Noah that she was sleeping soundly, and would, if let alone, be well as ever on the morrow; a prediction which proved true, for when at a late hour next morning the family met at the breakfast table, Maddy’s was the brightest, freshest face of the whole, not even excepting Jessie’s. Maddy, too, was delighted with the party, declaring that nothing but pleasurable excitement and heat had made her faint; and then, with all the interest which young girls usually attach to fainting fits, she asked how she looked and how she acted, and if she didn’t appear very ridiculous, and how she got out of the room, saying the only thing she remembered after falling was a sensation as if she were being torn in two. “That’s it,” cried Jessie, who readily volunteered the desired information. “Brother Guy was ’way off with Maria Cutler, and doctor was with mamma, but both ran so fast, and both tried to take you up. I think Miss Cutler real hateful, for she said, mean like, ‘Do you see them pull her, as if it was of the slightest consequence which carried her out?’” “Jessie!” Guy interposed sternly; while the doctor, who had spent the night at Aikenside, looked disapprovingly at the little girl, who subsided into silence after saying, in an under-tone, “I do think she’s hateful, and that isn’t all she said either about Maddy!” It was rather uncomfortable at the table after that, and rather quiet too, as Maddy did not care to ask anything more concerning her faint, while the others were not disposed to talk. Breakfast over, the two young men repaired to the library, where Guy indulged in his cigar, while the doctor fidgeted for a time, and then broke out abruptly: “I say, Guy, have you said anything to her about—well, about me, you know?” “Why, no, I’ve hardly had a chance; and then, again, I concluded it better for each one to speak for himself;” and carelessly knocking the ashes from his half-smoked cigar, Guy leaned back in his chair, with his eyes, and, to all appearance, thoughts, wholly intent upon the curls of smoke rising above his head. “Guy, if you were not engaged, I should be tempted to think you wanted Maddy Clyde yourself,” the doctor suddenly exclaimed, confronting Guy, who, still watching the rings of smoke, answered with the most provoking coolness, “You should?” “Yes, I should; and I am not certain but you do as it is. Guy,” and the doctor grew very earnest in his manner, “if you do care for Maddy Clyde, and she for you, pray tell me so before I make a fool of myself.”