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.

Naturally very polite to females, Guy's first impulse was to go to her
assistance, but she did not need it, as was proven by the light spring
with which she reached the ground. The white-haired man was with her
again, but he evidently did not intend to stop, and a close observer
might have detected a shade of sadness and anxiety upon his face as
Madeline called cheerily out to him: "Good-by, grandpa. Don't fear for
me; I hope you have good luck;" then, as he drove away, she ran a step
after him and said; "Don't look so sorry, for if Mr. Remington won't
let you have the money, there's my pony, Beauty. I am willing to give
him up."

"Never, Maddy. It's all the little fortin' you've got. I'll let the
old place go first;" and, chirruping to Sorrel, the old man drove on,
while Madeline walked, with a beating heart, to the office door,
knocking timidly.

Glancing involuntarily at each other, the young men exchanged meaning
smiles, while the doctor whispered softly: "Verdant--that's sure.
Wonder if she'll knock at a church."