And  so  she  took  it  as  a  matter-of-fact  duty  to  be  done,
while  the  Doctor  was  so  much  surprised  that  he  could
scarcely  settle  the  thought  in  his  own  mind  for  a  few
minutes.  Nevertheless,  he  rather  liked  the  idea,  not
any  more  because  it  was  entirely  new  to  him  to  have
young  ladies — or  old  ladies,  either — offer  to  mend  his
gloves,  than  because  it  showed  a  warm  heart  that  loved
to  be  helpful  with  true  womanly  instinct.
Mrs.  Hunman,  a  quaint  old  lady,  with  a  long  hook
nose,  gray  locks  coiled  in  smooth  loops  on  the  back  of
her  head,  and  gold-bowed  glasses  that  were  ever  shin
ing  in  the  light  like  chips  of  ice,  opened  the  door  for
them  as  they  came  up  the  steps,  and  showed  them,  with
a  great  deal  of  ceremony,  into  her  little  parlor,  worn
and  faded  notwithstanding  the  fact  that  the  sunshine
seldom  got  a  peep  into  its  musty  corners  to  steal  away
their  bright  hues.  She  was  very  slow  and  old-fash
ioned,  and,  as  the  Doctor  had  said,  a  little  odd;  but  she
had  a  patient,  motherly  look  upon  her  face,  indicating
that  she  was  certain  to  endure  the  wilful  pranks  of
troublesome  Nettie,  and  all  other  annoyances,  with
gentle  forbearance.
Mrs.  Hunman  was  seldom  blessed  with  company.
