any one was bad they got better directly. You could see it
was good stuff," said Tant Sannie; "it tasted horrid. That was a real
doctor! He used to give a bottle so high," said the Boer-woman, raising
her hand a foot from the table, "you could drink at it for a month and
it wouldn't get done, and the same medicine was good for all sorts of
sicknesses--croup, measles, jaundice, dropsy. Now you have to buy a new
kind for each sickness. The doctors aren't so good as they used to be."

"No, aunt," said the young man, who was trying to gain courage to stick
out his legs and clink his spurs together. He did so at last.

Tant Sannie had noticed the spurs before; but she thought it showed a
nice manly spirit, and her heart warmed yet more to the youth.

"Did you ever have convulsions when you were a baby?" asked Tant Sannie.

"Yes," said the young man.

"Strange," said Tant Sannie; "I had convulsions too. Wonderful that we
should be so much alike!"

"Aunt," said the young man explosively, "can we sit up tonight?"

Tant Sannie hung her head and half closed her eyes; but finding that her
little wiles were thrown away, the young man staring fixedly at his hat,
she simpered, "Yes," and went away to fetch candles.

In the dining room Em worked at her machine, and Gregory sat close
beside her, his great blue eyes turned to the window where Lyndall
leaned out talking to Waldo.

Tant Sannie took two candles out of the cupboard and held them up
triumphantly, winking all round the room.

"He's asked for them," she said.

"Does he want them for his horse's rubbed back?" asked Gregory, new to
up-country life.

"No," said Tant Sannie, indignantly; "we're going to sit up!" and she
walked off in triumph with the candles.

Nevertheless, when all the rest of the house had retired, when the long
candle was lighted, when the coffee-kettle was filled, when she sat in
the elbow-chair, with her lover on a chair close beside her, and when
the vigil of the night was fairly begun, she began to find it wearisome.
The young man looked chilly, and said nothing.

"Won't you put your feet on my stove?" said Tant Sannie.

"No thank you, aunt," said the young man, and both lapsed into silence.

At last Tant Sannie, afraid of going to sleep, tapped a strong cup of
coffee for herself and handed another to her lover. This visibly revived
both.

"How long were you married, cousin?"

"Ten months, aunt."

"How old was your baby?"

"Three da