THE DOCTOR'S MIXTURE.

BOOK II.

CHAPTER IX. A COMBAT.

THE Doctor scarcely spoke during the
drive home, except that at times muttered
ejaculations of future purpose would escape
him. Once arrived, he withdrew into his
study, either to mature his plans, or brood
over the insult his house had received.
Polly, flushed with triumph at her own
private successes, and at some outrageous
compliments that had been paid her by
some daring military men, could only think
of Polly; and Katey, always gentle and
self-sacrificing, had to listen to the history
of the night's triumphs, and to furnish an
artificial sympathy, and those stimulating
questions of interest, which were necessary
to send Polly to bed happy. Then she was
left alone to think over the situation.

As there came back on her the indignity
she and her family had suffered, her
indignation kindled. She hardly knew enough
of the world to enter into the bitter distinctions
of caste, and to understand how the
violation of such by those who are lower, is
a more heinous offence against morality
than many of the serious offences which
the law punishes heavily. She did not
dream that there were fine ladies who
would have had her whipped at the cart's
tail, did such a punishment still exist, and
who could only imagine that such an attempt
as hers was the result of organised
wickedness and presumption. These harsh
views she had never known before, and she
hardly felt them now. As she stood at the
window looking out at the night, she asked
herself, wondering what she had done,
what was the meaning of all this, and was
only roused from her reverie by a figure
coming up the little garden-walk.

She almost blushed as she recognised
the face; a face which she had dimly recalled
through that agitating night as fixed
upon her with a last and imploring look. It
was now at the window. A sort of chivalrous
feeling, as of a heroine, and quite new
to her, determined her not to relax in the
least.

"I am going away," he said, sadly, "in two
or three hours."

"I am sorry for it," she answered, coldly,
"and more sorry that you are taking with
you such a false picture of me. Time will
help you to alter it, and to do me justice at
last."

"I never did you injustice," he said,
warmly. "It is all your own work. Ask
any of them in this place—and they are
all talking of it—what they think of your
cold, cruel behaviour."

"Ah! but you know I cannot ask them
what they would think of you who have
sent abroad calumnies about the woman
whom you professed to love, and whom all
the time you believed was entering on a
base scheme. Tricking her sister, too! I
shall never forget that."

"A word—a look would explain all. But
the facts are there."

"Yes; and there they shall be, ungenerous
creature that you are! But we have
spoken of all this before. It was final, too."

"I have come on another matter; to give
you, that is, your family, warning. That
Hickey, with whom your father quarrelled,
has, it seems, put his attorney relations on
the track. They have made out a
complete history of Doctor Findlater's life.
All is to be put into Mr. Leader's
hands— "

"I shall listen to no more of this," she