twenty-one.

"I hated her then," said he, "hated this Maude Glendower, for her
deception; but I could not forget her, and after Katy died I sought
her again. She was the star of Saratoga, and no match for me. This I
had sense enough to see, so I left her in her glory, and three years
after married your departed mother. Maude Glendower has never
married, and at the age of forty has come to her senses, and
signified her willingness to become my wife--or, that is to say, I
have been informed by my sister that she probably would not refuse
me a second time. Now, Maude Remington, I have told you this because
I must talk with someone, and as I before remarked, you are a girl
of sense, and will keep the secret. It is a maxim of mine, when
anything is to be done, to do it; so I shall visit Miss Glendower
immediately, and if I like her well enough I shall marry her at
once. Not while I am gone, of course, but very soon. I shall start
for Troy one week from to-day, and I wish you would attend a little
to my wardrobe; it's in a most lamentable condition. My shirts are
all worn out, my coat is rusty, and last Sunday I discovered a hole
in my pantaloons--"

"Dr. Kennedy," exclaimed Maude, interrupting him, "you surely do not
intend to present yourself before the fastidious Miss Glendower with
those old shabby clothes. She would say No sooner than she did
before. You must have an entire new suit. You can afford it, too,
for you have not had one since mother died."

Dr. Kennedy was never in a condition to be so easily coaxed as now.
Maude Glendower had a place in his heart, which no other woman bad
ever held, and that very afternoon the village merchant was
astonished at the penurious doctor's inquiring the prices of the
finest broadcloth in his store. It seemed a great deal of money to
pay, but Maude Remington at his elbow and Maude Glendower in his
mind conquered at last, and the new suit was bought, including vest,
hat, boots, and all. There is something in handsome clothes very
satisfactory to most people, and the doctor, when arrayed in his,
was conscious of a feeling of pride quite unusual to him. On one
point, however, he was obstinate, "he would not spoil them by
wearing them on the road, when he could just as well dress at the
hotel."

So Maude, between whom and himself there was for the time being
quite an amicable understanding, packed them in his trunk, while
Hannah and Louis looked on wondering what it could mean.