octor close at hand where there was so much wedding-cake. But before
all this was accomplished, came what Katy, in imitation of one of Miss
Edgeworth's heroines, called "The Day of Happy Letters."

CHAPTER II.

THE DAY OF HAPPY LETTERS.

The arrival of the morning boat with letters and newspapers from the East
was the great event of the day in Burnet. It was due at eleven o'clock;
and everybody, consciously or unconsciously, was on the lookout for it.
The gentlemen were at the office bright and early, and stood chatting with
each other, and fingering the keys of their little drawers till the rattle
of the shutter announced that the mail was distributed. Their wives and
daughters at home, meanwhile, were equally in a state of expectation, and
whatever they might be doing kept ears and eyes on the alert for the step
on the gravel and the click of the latch which betokened the arrival of
the family news-bringer.

Doctors cannot command their time like other people, and Dr. Carr was
often detained by his patients, and made late for the mail, so it was all
the pleasanter a surprise when on the great day of the cake-baking he came
in earlier than usual, with his hands quite full of letters and parcels.
All the girls made a rush for him at once; but he fended them off with an
elbow, while with teasing slowness he read the addresses on the envelopes.

"Miss Carr--Miss Carr--Miss Katherine Carr--Miss Carr again; four for you,
Katy. Dr. P. Carr,--a bill and a newspaper, I perceive; all that an old
country doctor with a daughter about to be married ought to expect, I
suppose. Miss Clover E. Carr,--one for the 'Confidante in white linen.'
Here, take it, Clovy. Miss Carr again. Katy, you have the lion's share.
Miss Joanna Carr,--in the unmistakable handwriting of Miss Inches. Miss
Katherine Carr, care Dr. Carr. That looks like a wedding present, Katy.
Miss Elsie Carr; Cecy's hand, I should say. Miss Carr once more,--from the
conquering hero, judging from the post-mark. Dr. Carr,--another
newspaper, and--hollo!--one more for Miss Carr. Well, children, I hope for
once you are satisfied with the amount of your correspondence. My arm
fairly aches with the weight of it. I hope the letters are not so heavy
inside as out."

"I am quite satisfied, Papa, thank you," said Katy, looking up with a
happy smile from Ned's letter, which she had torn open first of all. "Are
you going, dear?" She laid her packages down to help him on wi