have fallen into such hands. Lord George
would do himself the honour of calling at
Shipley vicarage, and meanwhile he begged
to know if there were any way in which he
could be of service, either to Mr. Levincourt
or to the invalid, under these painful
circumstances.

This note, although extremely civil, left
matters pretty much as they had been
before. But from the Crown Inn, Joe Dowsett
brought back something more tangible
and unexpected.

He brought back, that is to say, Sir John
Gale's foreign servant, who announced
himself as "Paul," and who immediately took
upon himself all the duties of waiting on
the sick man.

"If you will permit, sir," said Paul, in
very good English, " I will have a mattress
laid by the side of my master's bed for a
few nights. When Sir John gets better,
and needs not to have me all night, I shall
find to sleep at the village. There is a
small cabaret there, as I have informed
myself."

The arrival of this man, which was at
first looked upon with dismay by the
inmates of the vicarage, proved before long
to be an inestimable comfort and relief.

In the first place, he eased the vicar's
mind by taking upon himself the
responsibility of communicating with Sir
John's friends. Or rather he proved that
no such responsibility existed. Sir John
had, Paul declared, no relatives. He
had neither wife nor child, brother nor
sister, uncle nor cousin. He had lived a
great deal abroad. Paul had not been
with Sir John in England, before this
winter. He would write to Sir John's
agent and man of business. That was all
that would be necessary.

Mr. Levincourt, never unwilling to shift
responsibility on to the shoulders of others,
told Paul that he must do as he thought
best. There was something in the grave,
steady aspect of the little man that inspired
confidence. Then Paul took upon himself
the whole business of the sick room. He
waited by day, and watched by night. He
administered the medicines. He reported
progress to the doctors, with an intelligence
and accuracy which won those gentlemen's
good opinion very soon. He relieved the
vicar's servants of all trouble as regarded
Sir John Gale. He even went into the
kitchen, and, with a certain grave tact
which characterised him, won over old
Joanna to allow him to prepare sundry
articles of invalid diet for his master. He
was always at hand when wanted, and
yet entirely unobtrusive. He was never
tired, never sleepy, never sulky, never
indiscreet.

In a word, before many days of his
sojourn at the vicarage had passed over,
the whole household began to wonder how
they had managed to get through the few
hours that had intervened between the
accident, and the arrival of the admirable
Paul.

He very soon contrived to let it be
understood that money expenses would not
at all events be added to the burthen
thrown on the vicar's family by his master's
accident and illness. Sir John was rich:
very rich. No expense need be spared.
If, even, it were deemed necessary to send
to London for additional medical assistance,
they need not hesitate to do so. This,
however, did not appear to be desirable.
And as soon as Sir John was enabled to
understand his own condition, he expressed
himself entirely satisfied with the skill and
care of the doctors who were attending him.

Lord George Segrave fulfilled his promise
of calling. Lord George was a bachelor.
He was a great sportsman, and some folks
said that he was too fond of other pursuits
which persons holding strict views could
not approve. Lord George was well known
on the turf; and in his youthful days had
been a patron of the Prize Ring. Without
belonging to the category of those whose
lives were openly scandalous, he yet was a
man whose acquaintance could by no means
be taken to be a certificate of good
character.

Retired as was Mr. Levincourt's life at
Shipley-in-the-Wold, he yet knew this
much of the present occupant of Hammick
Lodge, and the knowledge had not served
to make Sir John Gale's enforced presence
beneath his own roof the more agreeable
to him.

But Lord George Segrave soon made it
apparent that his acquaintance with Sir
John was really and truly no closer than
he had stated in his note. It need scarcely
be said that Lord George had no idea what
a signal service he was rendering to the
invalid in his host's opinion, by disclaiming
anything like intimacy with the former.

Lord George was rather good-natured,
and extremely selfish, and he desired that
it should be at once clearly understood
that while he was willing to send his
servants scouring the country on any
errand for Sir John that the vicar might
suggest, he (Lord George) by no means