"Stop right there. Why did you ask my girl to marry you?"
"Hum! And she--er--fancies that she loves you--eh?"
A dark flush swept over Samuel Brewster's ingenuous young face. "She does love me," was all he said. But he said it in a tone which suddenly brought back the older man's vanished youth.
There was a short silence; then the doctor arose so abruptly that he nearly upset his chair. "_Well_," he said, "I've got to go to Boston to-morrow on a case, and I'll see those professors of yours, for one thing; I know Collins well. Not that he or anybody else can tell me all about you--not by a long shot; I know boys and young men well enough for that. But you see, sir, I--love my girl too, and I--I'll say _good_-afternoon, sir."
He threw the door wide with an impatient hand. "Ah, Mrs. Tewksbury; you're next, I believe. Walk right in."
An hour later, when the door had finally closed on his last patient, Dr. North sat still in his chair, apparently lost in thought. His dinner was waiting, he knew, and a round of visits must be made immediately thereafter, yet he did not stir. He was thinking, curiously enough, of the time when his daughter Elizabeth was a baby. What a round, pink little face she had, to be sure, and what a strong, healthy, plump little body. He could almost hear the unsteady feet toddling across the breadth of dingy oilcloth which carpeted his office floor. "Daddy, daddy!" her sweet, imperious voice was crying, "I'm tomin' to see you, daddy!"
His eyes were wet when he finally stumbled to his feet. Then suddenly he felt a pair of warm arms about his neck, and a dozen butterfly kisses dropped on his cheeks, his hair, his forehead. "Daddy, dear, he came; didn't he? I saw him go away. I hope you weren't--cruel to him, oh, daddy!"
"No, daughter; I wasn't exactly cruel to him. But didn't the young man stop to talk it over with you?"
"No, daddy; I thought he would of course; but he just waved his hand for good-bye, and I--was frightened for fear----"
"Didn't stop to talk it over--eh? Say, I like that! To tell you the truth, Bess, I--rather like him. Good, clear, steady eyes; good all 'round constitution, I should say; and if--Oh, come, come, child; we'd better be getting in to dinner or your mother will be anxious. But I want you to understand, miss, that your old daddy has no notion of playing second fiddle to any youngster's first, however tall and good-looking he may be."