you mind what I say, Miss Baker," said she, shaking her snuffy
forefinger in Mrs. Baker's face; "Doctor Bugbee'll marry Tira Blake
yet. Now do you just stick a pin there."

But the revolving seasons twice went their annual round, the great
weeping-willow-tree in the burying-ground twice put forth its tender
foliage in the early spring, and twice in autumn strewed with yellow
leaves the mound of Mrs. Bugbee's grave, while the predictions of
many, who, like Mrs. Prouty, had foretold the Doctor's second wedding,
still remained without fulfilment. Nay, at the end of two years after
his wife's death, Doctor Bugbee seemed to be no more disposed to
matrimony than in the first days of his bereavement. There were, to be
sure, floating on the current of village gossip, certain rumors that
he was soon to take a second wife; but as none of these reports agreed
touching the name of the lady, each contradicted all the others, and
so none were of much account. Besides, there was nothing in the
Doctor's appearance or behavior that seemed to warrant any of these
idle stories. It is the way with many hopeful widowers (as everybody
knows) to become, after an interval of decorous sadness, more brisk
and gay than even in their youthful days; bestowing unusual care upon
their attire and the adornment of their persons, and endeavoring, by a
courteous and gallant demeanor towards every unmarried lady, to
signify the great esteem in which they hold the female sex. But these
signs, and all others which betoken an ardent desire to win the
favor of the fair, were wanting in the Doctor's aspect and
deportment. Though, as my reader knows, he was by nature a man of
lively temper, he was now grown more sedate than he had ever been
before; and instead of attiring himself more sprucely than of old, he
neglected his apparel to such a degree, that, although few would have
noticed the untidy change, Statira was filled with continual alarms,
lest some invidious housewife should perceive it, and lay the blame at
her door. Except when called abroad to perform some professional duty,
he spent his time at home, although his family observed that he
secluded himself in his office, among his books and gallipots, more
than had been his wont, and that he sometimes indulged in moods of
silent abstraction, which had never been noticed in his manner until
of late. But these changes of demeanor seemed to betoken an enduring
sorrow for the loss of his wife, rather than