Dr. Kennedy was never in a condition to be so easily coaxed as now.
Maude Glendower had a place in his heart, which no other woman bad
ever held, and that very afternoon the village merchant was
astonished at the penurious doctor's inquiring the prices of the
finest broadcloth in his store. It seemed a great deal of money to
pay, but Maude Remington at his elbow and Maude Glendower in his
mind conquered at last, and the new suit was bought, including vest,
hat, boots, and all. There is something in handsome clothes very
satisfactory to most people, and the doctor, when arrayed in his,
was conscious of a feeling of pride quite unusual to him. On one
point, however, he was obstinate, "he would not spoil them by
wearing them on the road, when he could just as well dress at the
hotel."
So Maude, between whom and himself there was for the time being
quite an amicable understanding, packed them in his trunk, while
Hannah and Louis looked on wondering what it could mean.
"The Millennial is comin', or else he's goin' a-courtin'," said
Hannah, and satisfied that she was right she went back to the
kitchen, while Louis, catching at once at her idea, began to cry,
and laying his head on his sister's lap begged of her to tell him if
what Hannah had said were true.
To him it seemed like trampling on the little grave beneath the
willows, and it required all Maude's powers of persuasion to dry his
tears and soothe the pain which every child must feel when first
they know that the lost mother, whose memory they so fondly cherish,
is to be succeeded by another.