"Well, I don't know about that," said the doctor, taking an Æsculapian view of the case; "shouldn't think they were--blue eyes--sanguine temperament, like their mother's--not much Hall blood in 'em I fancy; more's the pity." "It is no use being uncivil," said Mr. Ellet, reddening. "_I_ never am uncivil. I came here because I thought you had something to say; if you have not, I'll go; my time is precious." "You have not answered my question yet," said the doctor; "I asked you, if you would give the same that I would to Ruth for a time, only a _short_ time?" "The fact is, Mr. Ellet," continued the doctor, forced to fall back at last upon his reserved argument; "we are both church members; and the churches to which we belong have a way (which I think is a wrong way, but that's neither here nor there) of meddling in these little family matters. It would not be very pleasant for you or me to be catechised, or disciplined by a church committee; and it's my advice to you to avoid such a disagreeable alternative: they say hard things about us. We have a Christian reputation to sustain, brother Ellet," and the doctor grew pietistic and pathetic. Mr. Ellet looked anxious. If there was anything he particularly prided himself upon, it was his reputation for devoted piety. Here was a desperate struggle--mammon pulling one way, the church the other. The doctor saw his advantage, and followed it. "Come, Mr. Ellet, what will you give? here's a piece of paper; put it down in black and white," said the vigilant doctor. "Never put anything on paper, never put anything on paper," said Mr. Ellet, in a solemn tone, with a ludicrously frightened air; "parchments, lawyers, witnesses, and things, make me nervous." "Ha! ha!" chuckled the old lady from her hiding-place in the china-closet. "Well, then, if you won't put it on paper, _tell_ me what you will give," said the persistent doctor. "I'll _think_ about it," said the frenzied Mr. Ellet, seizing his hat, as if instant escape were his only safety. The doctor followed him into the hall. * * * * * "Did you make him do it?" asked the old lady, in a hoarse whisper, as the doctor entered. "Yes; but it was like drawing teeth," replied the doctor. "It is astonishing how avaricious he is; he may not stick to his promise now, for he would not put it on paper, and there was no witness." "Wasn't there though?" said the old lady, chuckling. "Trust me for that." CHAPTER XXXVI.