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THE DOCTOR'S MATCH-MAKING.
"GOOD-MORNING, Mrs.Barnet," cried the Doctor, as we drew near a neat farm-house during one of our morning drives.
A tall, healthful young woman, in the bloom of matronly beauty, was feeding chickens at the door.

She uttered an exclamation of delight and hurried towards us.

Perceiving a stranger in the wagon she paused, with a look of embarrassment.
"My friend, who is spending a few weeks with me," explained the Doctor.
She greeted me civilly and pressed the Doctor's hand warmly.
"Oh, it is so long since you have called on us that we have been talking of going up to the village to see you, as soon as Robert can get away from his cornfield.

You don't know how little Lucy has grown.