When Miss Nancy had closed up for the night she took out the letter directed to Marian, opened, and began to read it.  And as she read her eyes and mouth grew wider and wider with astonishment, and her wonder broke forth in frequent exclamations of:  “M—­y conscience!  Well now!  Who’d a dreamt of it!  Pity but I’d a let Solomon court her when he wanted to—­but Lors! how did I ever know that she’d—­M—­y conscience!” etc., etc.

Her fit of abstraction was at last broken by a smart rap at the door.

She started and turned pale, like the guilty creature that she was.

The rap was repeated sharply.

She jumped up, hustled the purloined letters and papers out of sight, and stood waiting.

The rap was reiterated loudly and authoritatively.

“Who’s that?” she asked, trembling violently.

“It’s me, Aunt Nancy!  Do for goodness’ sake don’t keep a fellow out here in the storm till he’s nearly perished.  It’s coming on to hail and snow like the last judgment!”

“Oh! it’s you, is it, Sol?  I didn’t know but what it was—­Do, for mercy’s sake don’t be talking about the last judgment, and such awful things—­I declare to man, you put me all of a trimble,” said Miss Nancy, by way of accounting for her palpitations, as she unbarred the door, and admitted her learned nephew.  Dr. Solomon Weismann seemed dreadfully downhearted as he entered.  He slowly stamped the snow from his boots, shook it off his clothes, took off his hat and his overcoat, and hung them up, and spoke—­never a word!  Then he drew his chair right up in front of the fire, placed a foot on each andiron, stooped over, spread his palms over the kindly blaze, and still spoke—­never a word!

“Well!  I’d like to know what’s the matter with you to-night,” said Miss Nancy, as she went about the room looking for her knitting.

But the doctor stared silently at the fire.

“It’s the latest improvement in politeness—­I shouldn’t wonder—­not to answer your elders when they speak to you.”

“Were you saying anything to me, Aunt Nancy?”

“‘Was I saying anything to you, Aunt Nancy?’ Yes I was!  I was asking you what’s the matter?”

“Oh!  I never was so dreadfully low-spirited in my life, Aunt Nancy.”

“And what should a young man like you have to make him feel low-spirited, I should like to know?  Moping about Marian, I shouldn’t wonder.  The girl is a good girl enough, if she’d only mind her own business, and not let people spoil her.  And if you do like her, and must have her, why I shan’t make no further objections.”

Here the young doctor turned shortly around and stared at his aunt in astonishment!

“Hem!” said Miss Nancy, looking confused, “well, yes, I did oppose it once, certainly, but that was because you were both poor.”

“And we are both poor still, for aught that I can see, and likely to continue so.”