rough the bushes and over the rough path when I reached the
corner of the Lane and the Lower Road. Then a carriage came down that
road. It was an open wagon and George Taylor was the driver. He had been
up to the Deans' and was on his way home.

I hailed the vehicle, intending to ask for a ride, but when Taylor
discovered who his hailer was he insisted on my going back to the house.
He would get the doctor, he said, and bring him down at once. I was
afraid he would be caught in the storm, and hesitated in accepting the
offer, but he insisted. I did go back to the house, found Mother in much
the same condition as when I left her, and had scarcely gotten into the
kitchen again when Taylor once more appeared.

"I brought Nellie along to stay with your mother," he said. "The Cap'n
and the old lady"--meaning Matilda--"were up at the meeting-house and we
just left a note saying where we'd gone. Nellie's all right. Between you
and me, she don't talk you deaf, dumb and blind like her ma, and she's
good company for sick folks. Now I'll fetch the doctor and be right
back."

"But it's raining pitchforks," I said. "You'll be wet through."

"No, I won't. I'll have Doc Quimby here in no time."

He drove off and Nellie Dean went into Mother's room. I had always
considered Nellie a milk-and-watery young female, but somehow her quiet
ways and soft voice seemed just what were needed in a sick room. I left
the two together and came out to wait for Taylor and the doctor.

But they did not come. The storm was under full headway now, and the
wind was dashing the rain in sheets against the windows. I waited nearly
an hour and still no sign of the doctor.

Nellie came out of Mother's room and closed the door softly behind her.

"She's quiet now," she whispered. "I think she's asleep. Where do you
suppose George is?"

"Goodness knows!" I answered. "I shouldn't have let him go, a night like
this."

"I'm afraid you couldn't stop him if his mind was made up. He's dreadful
determined when he sets out to be."

"He's a good fellow," I said, to please her. She worshipped the cashier,
a fact of which all Denboro was aware, and which caused gossip to report
that she did the courting for the two.

She blushed and smiled.

"He thinks a lot of you," she observed. "He's always talking to me about
you. It's a good thing you're a man or I should be jealous."

I smiled. "I seem to be talked about generally, just now," said I.

"Are you? Oh, y