gained Polly's affections; and if I was to
tell you all he has said to me——"

"Have you anything in writing?  No,
not you."

"But I think—I know—that he,  so
good, so amiable, so nice—he'll not mind
them. Not he. He has too much spirit.
He knows Polly's value, and admires her."

"Fiddle-de-dee!" says the Doctor,
impatiently. "I tell you, girl, the thing's
closed, and I've wasted my time, and my
money, and my spirit, all for nothing. And
then I'll have th' iron entering into my soul
besides, with all the low, mean Grundys of
the place chuckling over me, and pointing
with the finger of contempt. And then old
skinflint Shipton, and that cur Ridley, and
that quill-driver Morrison. Oh, I wish I
was unborn! I tell you the game's up!"

"No, Peter," said Katey, with enthusiasm;
"only wait until to-morrow's over.
I know him better."

"Faith, he shall go, and be sitting
beside you, my beauties, in th' open
barouche in triumph, and before to-morrow
night—never mind. D'ye think I'll let
my daughters' names be dragged through
the mire by every jackheen that owns a few
dirty acres to sit upon?  Leave it to me,
girls. You'll ride in the triumphant
chariot to-morrow, with my young Apollo
beside you, or I'll know the reason why!"
And the Doctor got his hat, and strode
from the room.

It will be remembered that, in the slight
sketch given of the Doctor's career, there
were two sides to his character, one being
that of the popular, jovial friend, who would
give away what might be the last bottle of
whisky in the universe;  the other, a sort of
truculent, violent, vindictive mood, which
might make him use that very bottle as a
convenient club with which to "smash in
the jackheen' s skull" who "darr'd trifle with
child of his."  It would be a nice question to
decide which was the real Doctor. Indulgent
friends said he was "uncertain."  At this
moment he was in the uncongenial vein, and
walked along talking to himself. The girls
saw him go in. The young man looked
confused when he saw him. The Doctor was
gay again and in good spirits, with his
most insinuating manners on.

"So you're going to throw us over!
New friends and new manners. I suppose
getting ashamed of your old neighbours."

"It's not that, indeed," said Cecil,
eagerly, "it's business, you know."

"Which couldn't be put off an hour, of
course!  Ah!  my dear sir, don't let us have
shams between us: call your spade a spade,
at once. Surely we're both men of the world.
It's natural the family would get alarmed
with the vile gossip of this hole. But do
me the justice, Mr. Cecil Leader, to say,
that I never encouraged you, and that I
was always an impediment and drag. I
spoke cross to you one night about it."

"My dear Doctor, I never dreamed of
such a thing."

"Not you, but others did. I tell you it
hurts me, because it's unjust, undeserved;
unmanly, sir. It has wounded me to the
quick, sir;  the whole is humiliating for
you, me, and my daughters. To see you,
my poor lad, under the orders of a mere
agent:  you that must get it all one day."

"Oh, it's not that," said the other,
confused; "of course I wouldn't have that."

"Of course not. And of course he'll
arrange all for you with Hickey and the
Jews. I'll give him every help."

"Not for the world," said the young
man, starting up alarmed. "Oh, you
wouldn't desert me in that?"

"God forbid!" said the Doctor, "and
I'll co-operate. But from this out we
must have all above board. No handle
for stories against Peter Findlater and his
daughters. Besides, we have our dignity.
We can't be dropped in public like hot
potatoes, and taken up in private and put
again into the pot to boil."

"Oh!  I should like so to go," said Cecil,
wistfully. "I was looking forward to such
a pleasant day."

"The girls will be disappointed, too;
getting their finery ready, pretty innocents.
Without a thought in their pure hearts
beyond th' enjoyment of the day. With
the friend they like beside them, and a
little basket hung swinging under the
barouche, and Billy on the box, fizzing and
popping with spirits like a dozen soda-
water bottles!  However, it can't be helped
now:  so I'll give the seat away to Archer,
or some of them. There, I must be off."

There was a look of poignant distress in
the young man. The Doctor suddenly
came back. "Now don't distress yourself,
my poor fellow, about the Jews.
There,  I'll settle it for you all the same,
and don't say a word to Morrison or any
one."

How generous, how good, how
disinterested!  thought the young man, in a
tumult of gratitude, when the Doctor had
gone. He felt ashamed of his own behaviour;
his base, cowardly behaviour to them
all. This would prove to Morrison and the