"Then don't go," said the young man,
really alarmed. " Oh, don't leave me."

Mr. Morrison entered, gave a suspicious
smile when he saw the Doctor, who
with another smile was wetting the gum
of an envelope with his tongue, and said
cheerily:

"How are you after the dissipation, Mr.
Morrison?"

Without answering this question, Mr.
Morrison said, "I am glad I found you
here with Cecil."

"Yes, we're here having a little confab,
Mr. Morrison."

"No doubt, no doubt. But I am glad
to meet you here together, for I wish to
speak a little plainly to you, Doctor
Findlater, and to him also."

The Doctor pulled down his waistcoat.
"I object to no man's speaking as plain as
he likes to me, sir, provided he's prepared
for reciprocity, sir; and provided also, that
plainness keeps within its own two banks,
like the canal, sir. What have you to say
to me, Mr. Morrison?"

"Why, simply this. The gossips of this
place have told me the usual stories; but
what I saw myself to-day was enough.
This won't do, and can't do. Those two
young ladies are very charming; but there
are——"

"Alluding to my daughters, sir? Leave
them out of the business. I don't like
it."

"As you please. Well, then, to speak
generally, I think you and any one should
know that any proceeding on Mr. Leader's
part without the approbation of his family
would be most unsatisfactory, and would
only bring about very serious complications.
Further, Mr. Leader having just
recovered from an illness, and being under
your care, it would have a very ugly look—
so——"

"Poor Mr. Leader!"  said the Doctor,
reflectively. " Well, I never saw anything
like this before. I think you're his uncle,
sir, on the father's side, or his half-brother?
Oh, I always forget. Mrs. Leader's brother
—the new agent. I beg your pardon!"

There was something so studiously
impertinent in the way the Doctor said this,
that the other coloured, and lost his
temper. "No matter about that, sir. The
family won't tolerate anything of this sort,
I give you fair warning."

"There is one of the family present,"
said the Doctor. "What do you say, sir?
This is a fine hearing for you! Have you
no voice, Mr. Leader, in the presence of
this gentleman? You're in the army, I
believe—not quite at school?"

"I believe not," said the young man,
colouring. " I'm not quite a child, though
I have been ill. Mr. Morrison needn't
interfere with me."

"I must," said that gentleman, slowly;
"when I see you behaving in a foolish way
it is time for me to protect you. It is not
fair either to this gentleman's daughters,
making them the talk of this place. There
is a dishonour about it——"

"Doctor Findlater knows," said the
young man, excitedly,  "what I mean,
and——"

"Doctor Findlater knows," interrupted
the Doctor, hastily, "that you're a nice
gentlemanly fellow, whom I and the girls
would be glad to see on any footing. It's
nonsense talking of dishonour and such
things. We're all as fond of him as if he was
a brother or a cousin. Now, you're making
too great a fuss, Mr. Morrison, out of a
harmless thing. Let him go to bed now.
He's an officer and a gentleman, and shrewd
and clever enough, and don't want any
coaching from his patron's confidential
employey—eh, Mr. Cecil?"

"Well, I have done my part," said Mr.
Morrison; "and I gave you warning with
the best intention. A shrewd man, as you
are reported to be, I thought you would see
that this won't do. However, there is
nothing like the event, and that must prove
it to you. Good-night, Findlater. Don't
let us detain you."

The Doctor said good-night with the
most perfect good humour. "Won't do,
won't it?" he repeated. "At the worst,
we can slap an action at you, my fine
fellow, and see what a jury will say. I'd
just put Katey in the witness-box, and her
sweet face would be worth an extra
thousand pounds!"

Mr. Morrison presently went home with
a telegram, enclosed it in a letter to London,
and posted it that very night.

CHAPTER XXXI. ANOTHER NAIL DRIVEN.

WE may be sure that the local gossips had
something to talk of next day. The universal
Grundys were wild with speculation. Every
one had it that the Doctor had succeeded in
his coup, and that Miss Polly had happily
secured the prize. The radiant face of the
Doctor confirmed this great news. Though,
when he was openly congratulated, he
quite disclaimed it. Good gracious! Now
wasn't this hard—friends couldn't be
friends, and a nice young fellow come in