"You must write the certificate, of course," he said, "testifying that

she is qualified to teach."

"Yes, certainly, Guy, if she is; but maybe she won't be, and my orders

are, to be strict--very strict."

"How did she look?" Guy asked, and the doctor replied: "Saw nothing

but her bonnet. Came in a queer old go-giggle of a wagon, such as your

country farmers drive. Guess she won't be likely to stir up the bile

of either of us, particularly as I am bullet proof, and you have been

engaged for years. By the way, when do you cross the sea again for the

fair Lucy? Rumor says this summer."

"Rumor is wrong, as usual, then," was Guy's reply, a soft light

stealing into his handsome eyes. Then, after a moment, he added: "Miss

Atherstone's health is far too delicate for her to incur the risks of

a climate like ours. If she were well acclimated, I should be glad,

for it is terribly lonely up at Aikenside."

"And do you really think a wife would make it pleasanter?" Dr Holbrook

asked, the tone of his voice indicating a little doubt as to a man's

being happier for having a helpmate to share his joys and sorrows.

But no such doubts dwelt in the mind of Guy Remington. Eminently

fitted for domestic happiness, he looked forward anxiously to the time

when sweet Lucy Atherstone, the fair English girl to whom he had

become engaged when, four years before, he visited Europe, should be

strong enough to bear transplanting to American soil. Twice since his

engagement he had visited her, finding her always lovely, gentle, and

yielding. Too yielding, it sometimes seemed to him, while occasionally

the thought had flashed upon him that she did not possess a very

remarkable depth of intellect. But he said to himself, he did not

care; he hated strong-minded women, and would far rather his wife

should be a little weak than masculine, like his Aunt Margaret, who

sometimes wore bloomers, and advocated women's rights. Yes, he greatly

preferred Lucy Atherstone, as she was, to a wife like the stately

Margaret, or like Agnes, his pretty stepmother, who only thought how

she could best attract attention; and as it had never occurred to him

that there might be a happy medium, that a woman need not be brainless

to be feminine and gentle, he was satisfied with his choice, as well

he might be, for a fairer, sweeter flower never bloomed than Lucy

Atherstone, his affianced bride. Guy loved to think of Lucy, and as

the doctor's remarks brought her to his mind, he went off into a

reverie concerning her, becoming so lost in thought that until the

doctor's hand was laid upon his shoulder by way of rousing him, he did

not see that what his friend had designated as a go-giggle was

stopping in front of the office, and that from it a young girl was

alighting.




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