The most astounding and gratifying instance of the wonders effected by time was that of Miss Nugent.  He saw her first at the window, and with a ready recognition of the enchantment lent by distance took the first possible opportunity of a closer observation.  He then realized the enchantment afforded by proximity.  The second opportunity led him impetuously into a draper’s shop, where a magnificent shop-walker, after first ceremoniously handing him a high cane chair, passed on his order for pins in a deep and thrilling baritone, and retired in good order.

[Illustration:  “The most astounding and gratifying instance of the wonders effected by time was that of Miss Nugent.”]

By the end of a week his observations were completed, and Kate Nugent, securely enthroned in his mind as the incarnation of feminine grace and beauty, left but little room for other matters.  On his second Sunday at home, to his father’s great surprise, he attended church, and after contemplating Miss Nugent’s back hair for an hour and a half came home and spoke eloquently and nobly on “burying hatchets,” “healing old sores,” “letting bygones be bygones,” and kindred topics.

“I never take much notice of sermons myself,” said the captain, misunderstanding.

“Sermon?” said his son.  “I wasn’t thinking of the sermon, but I saw Captain Nugent there, and I remembered the stupid quarrel between you.  It’s absurd that it should go on indefinitely.”

“Why, what does it matter?” inquired the other, staring.  “Why shouldn’t it?  Perhaps it’s the music that’s affected you; some of those old hymns—­”

“It wasn’t the sermon and it wasn’t the hymns,” said his son, disdainfully; “it’s just common sense.  It seems to me that the enmity between you has lasted long enough.”

“I don’t see that it matters,” said the captain; “it doesn’t hurt me.  Nugent goes his way and I go mine, but if I ever get a chance at the old man, he’d better look out.  He wants a little of the starch taken out of him.”

“Mere mannerism,” said his son.

“He’s as proud as Lucifer, and his girl takes after him,” said the innocent captain.  “By the way, she’s grown up a very good-looking girl.  You take a look at her the next time you see her.”

His son stared at him.

“She’ll get married soon, I should think,” continued the other.  “Young Murchison, the new doctor here, seems to be the favourite.  Nugent is backing him, so they say; I wish him joy of his father-in-law.”

Jem Hardy took his pipe into the garden, and, pacing slowly up and down the narrow paths, determined, at any costs, to save Dr. Murchison from such a father-in-law and Kate Nugent from any husband except of his choosing.  He took a seat under an old apple tree, and, musing in the twilight, tried in vain to think of ways and means of making her acquaintance.

Meantime they passed each other as strangers, and the difficulty of approaching her only made the task more alluring.  In the second week he reckoned up that he had seen her nine times.  It was a satisfactory total, but at the same time he could not shut his eyes to the fact that five times out of that number he had seen Dr. Murchison as well, and neither of them appeared to have seen him.