Mrs. Rosscar judicially. I wished, how
I wished, that, for the time of the good
doctor's eyes being on her, she could have
looked ugly!

"We must try change," he said. "It
will not do to go on like this; we must try
change. You are a man with work to do
in the world; you must be braced up to
do it. The air of the town, and especially
of your room, is enervating in this warm
weather."

"I am far too weak to go out," I said.
"It would kill me to move."

He paid no attention to that; he was
reflecting.

"To-morrow," he went on, " I will call
for you, in the afternoon; you can quite
well bear a short journey in my carriage.
I will take you to a farm-house in the
country, pretty high up among the hills.
There, you will soon get strong and well.
You will be yourself again before the cold
weather comes."

"I shall die of weariness," I answered,
peevishly.

"Nothing of the kind; you will grow
calm and strong."

"I can't possibly do without a great
deal of nursing yet."

"The good woman of the farm is a kind
motherly creature; she will do all that is
necessary—she and one of her cows, from
which you must take plenty of new milk."

At that moment I hated Dr. Fearnwell.
I do not know what answer I might not
have made him, but Mrs. Rosscar spoke,
and my attention was immediately arrested.

"I am very glad you proposed this
change, Dr. Fearnwell," she said. " It
relieves me of a difficulty. I am unable to
remain here longer. I have had news
from my own neighbourhood that calls me
south. Nurse Wilkins is hardly competent
to undertake the sole charge of my patient
in his present stage of convalescence; but
the farmer's wife and the cow, between
them"—she smiled, one of her very rare
and very brief smiles— "will get me over
my difficulty."

"We are to lose you? You are unable to
remain here longer?" Dr. Fearnwell said.

He paid me a long visit that day, but
very little of his attention was given to
me; he seemed to be studying Mrs. Rosscar
with roused interest.

"She is too beautiful and too young for
the vocation she has chosen," he said, by-
and-by, when she had, for a few moments,
left the room. "Besides that, she is a
woman with a preoccupied mind, with a
memory, or a purpose."

His last words made me shudder, but I
returned him some sulky dissenting answer.
That this woman was the mother of the
poor little child on whom we had operated,
he did not know, or suspect.

"My poor fellow, I see you're in a devil
of a temper. But I don't care; what I'm
doing is for your good— if only I have done
it soon enough."

"Oh! People are so very brave, always,
in their operations for other people's good,"
I remarked, still as sulky as a bear, and yet
troubled by the sound of my own words.
I was mad enough to believe that Dr.
Fearnwell was himself in love with my
nurse, and jealous of me!

"You'll live to thank me for what I'm
doing, or to reproach me for not having
done it sooner," he said, and then took leave
of me.

Mrs. Rosscar returned to the room, finding
me, of course, in the deepest dejection
and sullenness. She looked at me, as she
entered, with some curiosity or interest.
It was very rarely that she spoke, except
in reply; very rarely that she approached
me, except when some service made it
needful she should do so. To-day, she
spoke first, coming to my side, within reach
of my hand, but averting her face from me.
She took up her work, and then said:

"So it is settled? You go into the
country to-morrow?"

"I don't know that it is at all settled.
I am not an idiot, or a baby, that I should
do exactly what I'm told. I am well
enough now, to have a will of my own.
Probably, when he calls for me, I shall say,
'I will not go!' '

"Do not say that," she returned, earnestly.
"Go, I advise you. It is true that I
cannot stay here longer."

"It is true that here, or there, or
anywhere, I cannot live without you," I said,
in a passionate outburst.

"I own that you are not yet well enough
to go without your accustomed nurse," she
answered, "and your nurse does not like
to have an incomplete case taken out of
her hands. But, after the way in which
Dr. Fearnwell spoke to-day, after the
insinuations contained in his look to-day, I
could no longer nurse you here, where I am
always liable to be seen by him."

"Do you mean——— " I began, with a
great throbbing joy.

"I mean that if you go with the doctor
to-morrow, you may find that your nurse
will soon join you, if———"

"I will promise anything," I cried, grasping
her hand.