tell you he's well able to take care of
himself; and, for that matter, to draw in
others. And as for drawing in, and taking
advantage——O, isn't that your house
next door, Doctor Findlater?"

The Doctor smiled at this thrust. "Well,
isn't it a providence that he has his
professional adviser so convenient? I tell
him the only thing in cases of this sort
is to make a clean breast of it, put all
down in plain figures. Sort off the black
sheep from the white, which, my dear sir,"
added the Doctor, with an air of most
engaging confidence, "we shall do yet,
with the blessing of Providence."

Rather taken aback, Mr. Hickey laughed
in a forced way, then turned on his heel.

"Ah, my lad," said the Doctor, looking
after him, "we'll deal with you by-and-bye,
never fear."

He went back to see his patient; then
came out in great glee, hurrying into his
own house: his beaming face, as he entered
the drawing-room, told them of good news.

"What is it, papa?" cried Polly. "When
is he to get well?"

"Lay out your best fallals, my honey-
birds. Make yourselves as bewitching as
the Watters we saw in the National
Gallery."

"Watteaus, Peter dear," said Katey.

"Watteaus, or Wat Tylers, dears, it's
all one. The invalid's coming, just to pick
a bit with us; but we must be tender with
him, soothe and foster him. A poor
invalid, you know; he'll be shy after the
sickness, and with strange faces about
him——"

"Never fear me, Peter, dear," said Polly.
"I'm not likely to frighten any one, I
hope."

"God forbid! But he's tender still. No,
but I tell you this," said the Doctor, with
a look of ineffable wisdom, and as if filled
with a sudden inspiration, "I'd let Katey
go on in front, like a little pilot-engine.
Polly will come flashing and sparkling in
the rear. You couldn't be in better hands
than Katey's, Polly dear."

The bright Polly tossed her head. "I
can do for myself. You know, Peter, he
saw me that day from the window."

"To be sure he did," said the Doctor.
"And he wasn't likely to forget it. Still,
I say, keep things in hand. Just for this
inauguration, you know. Just let my two
beauties go in the one little yoke, and pull
the coach between them."

Privately, and much more earnestly, the
Doctor inculcated the same tactics on his
Katey. "See, my pet, you've a sweet way
of your own, and just put it round his
neck, like a wreath of flowers round the
sacrificial calf. Polly flashes and crackles
a little too much. Up in town she'd whiz
through a ball-room like a skyrocket, and
take a duke or a lord by storm; but that
won't do with an invalid. Poor Polly!
let us all do our best for her!"

The gentle Katey kissed him fervently,
and promised all that he asked. She had
not the particle of an idea that there was
anything unbecoming or like "scheming"
in these little arrangements: she had been
brought up in so unsophisticated a fashion
as to believe that marriage, or "getting a
husband," was the most honourable and
laudable pursuit, and that these small arts
were incumbent on every well brought-up
girl; at least, that they were forms of
society quite as much sanctioned and
expected as wearing a "low neck" at a
dance, or signing oneself "yours truly," in
a letter. It was understood that every one
of the household was to exert him or
herself independently to do their best at this
"inauguration" at least; as it were,
"becoming lawn-mowers," as Doctor Findlater
said, to make all smooth for the feet of the
bewitching Polly.

He returned to the young man's room,
and found him on the sofa, fretful and
impatient. "I am well enough now to go
out," he said. "I am not to be shut up
here always, am I? It is very tedious,
and no one comes to see me."

"Well, then, I tell you what," said the
Doctor, in his gayest way, "I wouldn't see
much harm in your going out to-day, just
a little way, you know, to cheer you up a
bit. I declare, if you felt yourself up to
it, you might come in and cut a little bird
with us, and I'd have as pleasant a fellow
to meet you as ever made sick man
laugh."

Mr. Cecil Leader caught at the idea.
"You are very kind," he said; "I should
be delighted—enchanted."

"But mind," said the Doctor, gravely,
"no overdoing it; you're weak still, and
you must give me your word you won't be
giving back the talk of the girls, who'd
prattle on in their own pleasant way to the
face of the Lord Chancellor himself. Just
you look in and eat the little snipe I'll
have for you; just listen to the fun Billy
Webber and they will set agoing; and
I'll tell my Polly and Katey not to bother
you."

"Oh, I am not so bad as that," said the