“And I'll make a cake! And I'll take care of your clothes; you really are dreadfully shabby;” she turned him round to the light, and brushed off some ashes. The Captain beamed. “Poor Alfred! and there's a button off! that daughter-in-law of yours can't sew any more than a cat (and she _is_ a cat!). But I love to mend. Mary has saved me all that. She's such a good daughter--poor Mary. But she's unmarried, poor child.” However, it was not to-morrow. It was two or three days later that Dr. Lavendar and Danny, jogging along behind Goliath under the buttonwoods on the road to Upper Chester, were somewhat inconvenienced by the dust of a buggy that crawled up and down the hills just a little ahead. The hood of this buggy was up, upon which fact--it being a May morning of rollicking wind and sunshine--Dr. Lavendar speculated to his companion: “Daniel, the man in that vehicle is either blind and deaf, or else he has something on his conscience; in either case he won't mind our dust, so we'll cut in ahead at the watering-trough. G'on, Goliath!” But Goliath had views of his own about the watering-trough, and instead of passing the hooded buggy, which had stopped there, he insisted upon drawing up beside it. “Now, look here,” Dr. Lavendar remonstrated, “you know you're not thirsty.” But Goliath plunged his nose down into the cool depths of the great iron caldron, into which, from a hollow log, ran a musical drip of water. Dr. Lavendar and Danny, awaiting his pleasure, could hear a murmur of voices from the depths of the eccentric vehicle which put up a hood on such a day; when suddenly Dr. Lavendar's eye fell on the hind legs of the other horse. “That's Cipher's trotter,” he said to himself, and leaning out, cried: “Hi! Cy?” At which the other horse was drawn in with a jerk, and Captain Price's agitated face peered out from under the hood. “Where! Where's Cyrus?” Then he caught sight of Dr. Lavendar. “'_The devil and Tom Walker!_'” said the Captain with a groan. The buggy backed erratically. “Look out!” said Dr. Lavendar,--but the wheels locked. Of course there was nothing for Dr. Lavendar to do but get out and take Goliath by the head, grumbling, as he did so, that Cyrus “shouldn't own such a spirited beast.” “I am somewhat hurried,” said Captain Price, stiffly. The old minister looked at him over his spectacles; then he glanced at the small, embarrassed figure shrinking into the depths of the buggy. (“Hullo, hullo, hullo!” he said, softly. “Well, Gussie's done it.) You'd better back a little, Captain,” he advised. “I can manage,” said the Captain. “I didn't say 'go back,'” Dr. Lavendar said, mildly. “Oh!” murmured a small voice from within the buggy. “I expect you need me, don't you, Alfred?” said Dr. Lavendar. “What?” said the Captain, frowning. “Captain,” said Dr. Lavendar, simply, “if I can be of any service to you and Mrs. North, I shall be glad.”