now say no more about gratitude. Just love me, and stay
with me."

And Uncle Lincoln added, humorously:

"Perhaps I may be doing some good by preventing some harm. I'll keep
you from practicing and experimenting on some poor creature. Oh, you
young doctors are always very anxious to make a beginning. 'Pon my
word, I have quite forgotten to open my little Minnie's letter. Coming
here to see her uncle, and will be with us to-morrow. I'm glad, very
glad. Well, it is rather strange that the two I love best in the world
should not know each other. It has happened that you have been off at
college or attending lectures each time she has been here. Guard well
your heart, boy. Every one loves her, and she no one better than her
parents and old uncle. Much to her mother's regret, she has refused
the finest offers in town. She does not care a mote for the title of
'old maid' with which her mother often threatens her. She is
twenty-one, and has never been in love, she says."

"I think I am quite safe, sir. I am not at all susceptible, and it is
not likely that a young lady of her position in society and of such
beauty will cast a thought on me."

The next day the old gentleman had the pleasure of introducing those
he loved so well; and, to his infinite delight, saw his darling Minnie
had certainly made a desired impression on his young _protege_.

"Here he is, Minnie! the boy who stole half my heart away from you. I
do not know how you will settle it with him, unless you take his in
pay."

Often during the evening Uncle Lincoln noticed Will's gaze lingering
on his niece, and there was a softer light than usual in his fine
eyes; but, to his great regret, his boy did not appear to his usual
advantage. He was very silent, and his mind seemed absent--far away.

And so it truly was. In the lovely girl before him William Archer
beheld the joyous child who, on that dark day, spoke so kindly and
saved him from--he dreaded to think what!

Uncle Lincoln rubbed his hands and chuckled merrily to himself.
Everything was working to his entire satisfaction. These two
impenetrable hearts were growing wonderfully congenial, he thought.

A few days before Minnie's visit was concluded, William brought out
and placed in her hands a bunch of withered flowers; told his story of
how, long years ago, her sweet sympathy had cheered his desolate heart
and made him feel that there was still love in the world, then so dark
to him; that her kind a