-house during one of our morning drives.

A tall, healthful young woman, in the bloom of matronly beauty, was
feeding chickens at the door. She uttered an exclamation of delight and
hurried towards us. Perceiving a stranger in the wagon she paused, with
a look of embarrassment.

"My friend, who is spending a few weeks with me," explained the Doctor.

She greeted me civilly and pressed the Doctor's hand warmly.

"Oh, it is so long since you have called on us that we have been talking
of going up to the village to see you, as soon as Robert can get away
from his cornfield. You don't know how little Lucy has grown. You must
stop and see her."

"She's coming to see me herself," replied the Doctor, beckoning to a
sweet blue-eyed child in the door-way.

The delighted mother caught up her darling and held her before the
Doctor.

"Does n't she look like Robert?" she inquired. "His very eyes and
forehead! Bless me! here he is now."

A stout, hale young farmer, in a coarse checked frock and broad straw
hat, came up from the adjoining field.

"Well, Robert," said the Doctor, "how do matters now stand with you?
Well, I hope."

"All right, Doctor. We've paid off the last cent of the mortgage, and
the farm is all free and clear. Julia and I have worked hard; but we're
none the worse for it."

"You look well and happy, I am sure," said the Doctor. "I don't think
you are sorry you took the advice of the old Doctor, after all."

The young wife's head drooped until her lips touched those of her child.

"Sorry!" exclaimed her husband. "Not we! If there's anybody happier
than we are within ten miles of us. I don't know them. Doctor, I'll
tell you what I said to Julia the night I brought home that mortgage.
'Well,' said I, 'that debt's paid; but there's one debt we can never pay
as long as we live.' 'I know it,' says she; 'but Dr. Singletary wants
no better reward for his kindness than to see us live happily together,
and do for others what he has done for us.'"

"Pshaw!" said the Doctor, catching up his reins and whip. "You owe me
nothing. But I must not forget my errand. Poor old Widow Osborne needs
a watcher to-night; and she insists upon having Julia Barnet, and nobody
else. What shall I tell her?"

"I'll go, certainly. I can leave Lucy now as well as not."

"Good-by, neighbors."

"Good-by, Doctor."

As we drove off I saw the Doctor draw his hand hastily across his eyes,
and he said nothing for