for them perfectly sacred. They had the
deepest sympathy for him already.
Perhaps it was in this view that the Doctor
gave them another strange account of the
young man, in reply to Katey's question,
"And what's the matter with the poor lad,
Peter, dear?"

"Just weakness, want of stimulants—
nothing more. Fancy keeping a poor lad
on horseback in a broiling sun! The very
men were falling out of the ranks coming
along. But I'll put him on regimen, and
deluge him with bark; two tumblers of
rum-and-milk every morning will set him
jumping over our little green gate in a
week." The Doctor felt that this illustration
was at variance with his previous
honourable caution, so he added, "Oh, no.
This is only my little professional joke."

In great spirits the two girls set
themselves to their little preparations. And
it must be said again, that they were
quite unconscious partakers in the schemes
of their restless, plotting father. They
thought, and had been taught from their
childhood, that an honourable marriage
was only to be attained by such laborious
exertions as their father had inculcated.
They thought that all the great world
outside, which they only saw from afar off,
pursued the same course. Polly was too
lively and boisterous, too natural, to take
the trouble of weighing the morality of
the question; while the more thoughtful
Katey saw everything through the sweet
eyes of her affection, an affection that
believed in the laborious devotion of her
father, and in the gay brightness and
natural gifts of her darling sister. Polly
must be married to one of these new
comers, because she would be a prize
worthy of any one in the land. So, when
Doctor Peter, a little later, came in boisterously,
and said, "Get your hats on, my
sweets, and come with papa up to the
square, where the band's to play!" they
flew to attire themselves in their best.
Katey was, indeed, "own maid" to her
sister; and Polly enjoyed the advantage of
a double wardrobe, taking from her sister
any ribbons, collars, laces, and even dresses,
which she fancied; which was, indeed, her
favourite practice, as she found Katey's
"things" new when her own were old, and
generally in far better order.

There was a little patch of grass, known
as the Square, and the band was playing
there. It was understood that in future
this performance was to take place twice a
week, by way of gratifying the natives,
and encouraging a sort of promenade.
Already they were assembled, the usual
"company," as it might be called, of the
little place; some of the officers, in plain
clothes, walking about with a haughty air
of superiority, feeling very much as
Europeans do to their "niggers" in the East.
But when Doctor Findlater came up briskly,
with his two charming girls—the demure
Katey, smiling with a gentle delight,
fluttering not a little with expectation, and the
brilliant Polly, whose eyes were sparkling
and roving, almost rioting, ready, as she
owned later, "to dance round in a valse"
to that divine music, both arrayed in
"challenging" little hats and feathers,
piquant dresses, the whole regulated by
Katey's canons of taste—I say, when these
two beauties came on the scene, it was no
wonder that the officers were attracted, and
that such as were near-sighted put up their
eye-glasses, or that those who were not, took
them down to see better. But, before five
minutes, the Doctor had two in custody, and
before five minutes more, there was a laughing
group round the two blushing girls.

There are persons who, when in
possession of these advantages, know not how
to use them, and such a group might
readily fall to pieces in a moment. But our
Doctor acted as leader of an orchestra.
He beat time, as it were, took note of every
flagging performer, urged him on, and kept
the music going. For a shy instrument or
two, played by his own family, he would
secure attention. And so in a few moments
the Reverend Mr. Webber was brought
up, and loud laughter arose from the
group: and the party began to walk about,
in pairs, a little happy family. Captain
Spring with Katey, and young Ridley
with Polly. How the latter prattled and
blushed at every speech addressed to her,
and gave those naïve, rather pert, but
piquant answers for which she was famous!

Having made these satisfactory arrangements,
and silently invoking a blessing on
his work, the Doctor went away to look
after his patient.

A GLIMPSE AT NORMANDY.

NORMANDY, legendary or picturesque, is
one of the richest fields for study in
France. Robert le Diable, whoever that
worthy may have really been; Richard-
Sans-Peur, his brother or his son
(tradition and the chroniclers are not quite
certain which), on whose shoulders rests a