ks so young, that Mrs.--Mrs.----"

"Rivers?" suggested Heathcote refilling his pipe. "Lord! I wonder if
any one ever called Mary-Clare Mrs. Rivers before, Polly?" Heathcote
paused, then went on:

"Yes; Mary-Clare holds her own and her boy-togs help the idea.
Mary-Clare ain't properly grown up, anyway. Some parts of her are
terrible strong and thrifty; parts as has caught the sunlight, so to
speak, and been sheltered from blasts. The other parts of her ain't
what you might say shrivelled, but they've kept hid and they ain't
ever on exhibition."

"How ridiculous you _are_, brother." Aunt Polly was enjoying her
brother's flights, but felt called upon to keep him in order.

"Oh! it's just a blamed amusing fancy of mine," Heathcote chuckled,
"to calculate 'bout Mary-Clare. You see, being a magistrate, I married
Mary-Clare to Larry, and I've never been at ease about the thing,
though I had to put it through. There lay ole Doc looking volumes and
not being able to speak a word--nothing to do for him but keep him
company and try to find out what he wanted. He kept on wanting
something like all possessed. Larry and Mary-Clare hung over him
asking, was it this or that? and his big, burning eyes sorter
flickering, never steady. I recall old Peneluna Todd was there and she
said the young uns were pestering the ole Doc. Then, it was 'long
about midnight, Larry rose up from asking some question, and there was
a new look on his face, a white, frozen kind of look. Mary-Clare
kinder sprang at him. 'What is it?' she whispered, and I ain't never
forgot her face. At first Larry didn't answer and he began shaking,
like he had the chills.

"'You must tell me, Larry!' Mary-Clare went up close and took Larry by
the shoulders as if she was going to tear his secret from him. Then
she went on to say how he had no right to keep anything from her--her,
as would give her soul for the ole Doc. She meant it, too. Well, Larry
sort of dragged it out of himself. Ole Doc wanted him and Mary-Clare
to marry! That was what was wanted! There wasn't much time to consider
things, but Mary-Clare went close to the bed and knelt down and said
slowly and real tender:

"'You can hear me, can't you, Daddy?' The flicker in ole Doc's eyes
steadied. I reckon any call of Mary-Clare's could halt him, short of
the other side of Jordan. 'Then, dearie Dad, listen.' Just like that
she said it. I remember every word. 'You want me to marry Larry--now?
It would make you-