tle evasion, saying, "When
he wrote to me his first letter from London, doctor, he said, 'I was
sorry to find Dolly looking pale, and I thought thin also; besides,'
added he, 'they have cut off her pretty brown hair.'"
"Yes, she told me of that," sighed the doctor. "And in her last note
she says again, 'Dinna think me a fright father dear, for it's growing
again, and I 'm not half so ugly as I was three weeks ago;' for the
lassie knows it was always a snare to me, and I was ever pleased wi' her
bright, cheery face."
"And a bright, cheery face it was!"
"Ye mind her smile, Mrs. Butler. It was like hearing good news to see
it. Her mother had the same." And the old man's lip trembled, and his
cheek too, as a heavy tear rolled slowly down it. "Did it ever strike
you, ma'am," added he, in a calmer tone, "that there's natures in this
world gi'en to us just to heal the affections, as there are herbs and
plants sent to cure our bodily ailments?"
"It's a blessed thought, doctor."
"Eh, ma'am, it's more than a thought; it's a solemn truth. But I 'm
staying o'er-long; I 've to go over to John Black's and see his sister
before I leave; and I 'd like, too, to say a word o' comfort to auld
Matty McClintock."
"You 'll be back for the Sabbath, doctor?" asked she.
"Wi' _His_ help and blessing, ma'am."
"I was thinking if maybe you and dear Dolly would come and take dinner
here--Saturday--there will be nothing ready for you at home; and it
would be such a pleasure to Tony before he goes away."
"T thank you heartily, Mrs. Butler; but our first evening under the auld
roof we must e'en have it by ourselves. You 'll no think the worse o' us
for this, I am sure, ma'am."
"Certainly not; then shall we say Monday? Dolly will be rested by that
time, and Tony talks of leaving me so soon."
"I 'll just, wi' your good leave--I 'll just wait till I see Dolly; for
maybe she 'll no be ower-strong when she comes. There's nothing I can do
for you in Derry, is there?"
"Nothing, sir,--nothing that I think of at this moment," said she,
coldly; for the doctor's refusal of her second invitation had piqued her
pride, and whether it was from his depression or some other cause, the
doctor himself seemed less cordial than was his wont, and took his leave
with more ceremony than usual.
The old lady watched him till he was out of sight, sorely perplexed to
divine whether he had really unburdened his conscience of all he had
to say, or had
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