"What is it, my darling?" and Ruth caught up the child with convulsive energy; "what is it? only that when you are a woman you shall remember this day, my little pet;" and as she kissed Katy's upturned brow a bright spot burned on her cheek, and her eye glowed like a star. CHAPTER LVII. "Doctor?" said Mrs. Hall, "put down that book, will you? I want to talk to you a bit; there you've sat these three hours, without stirring, except to brush the flies off your nose, and my tongue actually aches keeping still." "Sh-sh-sh," said the doctor, running his forefinger along to guide his purblind eyes safely to the end of the paragraph. "Sh-sh. 'It--is es-ti-ma-ted by Captain Smith--that--there--are--up'ards--of--ten-- hundred--human--critters--in--the--Nor-West--sett-le-ment.' Well--Mis. Hall--well--" said the doctor, laying a faded ribbon mark between the leaves of the book, and pushing his spectacles back on his forehead, "what's to pay now? what do you want of me?" "I've a great mind as ever I had to eat," said the old lady, pettishly, "to knit twice round the heel of this stocking, before I answer you; what do you think I care about Captain Smith? Travelers always lie; it is a part of their trade, and if they don't it's neither here nor there to me. I wish that book was in the Red Sea." "I thought you didn't want it _read_," retorted the irritating old doctor. "Now I suppose you call that funny," said the old lady. "I call it simply ridiculous for a man of your years to play on words in such a frivolous manner. What I was going to say was this, _i. e._ if I can get a chance to say it, if _you_ have given up all idea of getting Harry's children, _I_ haven't, and now is the time to apply for Katy again; for, according to all accounts, Ruth is getting along poorly enough." "How did you hear?" asked the doctor.