THE DOCTOR'S MIXTURE.

BOOK I.

CHAPTER XXIX. A DISCOVERY.

AFTER the banquet was over the party
broke up. There was a great deal to see,
all about. Firstly, the Lovers' Leap, high
up yonder.  Then the Pagoda, on which
Lord Shipton delivered a sort of speech.
"The poor creatures from the village, with
their harmless junketings, you know. I
thought it was a cruel thing that they
could not enjoy themselves in their own
innocent way; so I got this little pavilion
knocked up, under which they could have
their beer and pipes, and tea, and be out
of the sun."  The Doctor listened to this
piece of philanthropy: then explained to
his neighbours with exquisite enjoyment
that this was "all a speculation," and that
his lordship levied a regular tax of
twopence a head on all those who availed
themselves of the shelter, or of the dining-
tables provided, and made an uncommonly
good thing out of it at the end of the year.
Lord Shipton had, in fact, developed the
whole place very ingeniously and commercially:
he had had various doubtful objects of
interest labelled and ticketed the "Abbot's
Walk," &c.; and had, in fact, as the Doctor
said, "turned it into a sort of Cremorne."

Accordingly, the officers and some of
the ladies "scattered about," and went to
examine these various objects of interest
in that dreamy, pleasant vein, which
succeeds to one of the early entertainments
of this sort. The Doctor and Mr. Webber,
with other gentlemen, remained pleasantly
disposed on the grass, getting ready fairly
to enjoy themselves, the Doctor in full
vein, as he said himself, "blazing and
sputtering like a moderature lamp just
wound up, and running over with oil!"
drawing them all about him in a happy
group. The hours went by in one of the
most enjoyable days, the colonel said, he
had ever spent; and now evening was
coming on.

Suddenly the Doctor jumped up, and
looked round him. "Where are my girls?
Halloo! what does this mean? Time to
be getting the party together. This won't
do!"  With a sort of uneasiness, the
Doctor insisted on going off to search for
his daughters, and with him went some of
the officers, and Mr. Randall Morrison.
"I hear they went off with your protegy,
Mr. Morrison," said the Doctor; "I tell
you I don't approve of that—no mother
with them, you know! and though our
friend Cecil is as nice——"

"Who?" said Mr. Morrison, in a marked
way; "whom are you speaking of?"

"Oh, you're a fine fellow to send over to
look after the lord of the manor," said the
other, whose tongue had been freed by the
"royal fizzileers" of the morning, "not to
know his Christian name."

At this moment Polly made her appearance,
coming suddenly round the corner
with young Mr. Clarke. Polly's face wore
a pouting and excited look, a mystified and
even distracted air.

"Where's Katey?" the Doctor cried,
eagerly; "we have been looking for her
everywhere!"

"I'm sure I don't know," said his
daughter, pouting. "She has chosen to
lose her way with Mr. Leader, though I
don't see how she could—the road is straight
enough."

"This is a nice piece of business.  I
that have brought my children up to
decency, and propriety, and modesty, to
have such a thing said! Where is she,