murmur; very slight." He deposited the
instrument, and said, not without a certain shade
of satisfaction that his research had not been
fruitless, " The Heart is the peccant organ."

"Oh, sir! is it serious?" said poor Mrs.
Dodd.

"By no means. Try this" (he scratched a
prescription which would not have misbecome
the tomb of Cheops); " and come again in a
month." Ting! He struck a bell. That
"ting" said, "Go, live Guinea! and another
come!"

"Heart disease now!" said Mrs. Dodd, sinking
back in her hired carriage, and the tears were in
her patient eyes.

"My own, own mamma," said Julia, earnestly,
"do not distress yourself! I have no disease in
the world, but my old, old, old one, of being a
naughty, wayward girl. As for you, mamma,
you have resigned your own judgment, to your
inferiors, and that is both our misfortunes.
Dear, dear mamma, do take me to a doctress next
time, if you have not had enough."

"To a what, love?"

"A she-doctor, then."

"A female physician, child? There is no
such thing. No; assurance is becoming a
characteristic of our sex: but we have not yet
intruded ourselves into the learned professions;
thank Heaven."

"Excuse me, mamma, there are one or two;
for the newspapers say so."

"Well, dear, there are none in this country;
happily."

"What, not in London?"

"No."

"Then what is the use of such a great
overgrown place, all smoke, if there is nothing in it
you cannot find in the country? Let us go back
to Barkington this very day, this minute, this
instant; oh, pray, pray."

"And so you shall — to-morrow. But you
must pity your poor mother's anxiety, and see
Dr. Chalmers first."

"Oh, mamma, not another surgeon! He frightened
me; he hurt me; I never heard of such
a thing; he ought to be ashamed of himself; oh,
please not another surgeon."

"It is not a surgeon, dear; it is the Court
Physician."

The Court Physician detected " a somewhat
morbid condition of the great nervous centres."
To an inquiry whether there was heart-disease,
he replied, " Pooh!" On being told Sir William
had announced heart-disease, he said, " Ah! that
alters the case entirely." He maintained,
however, that it must be trifling, and would go no
further, the nervous system once restored to its
healthy tone. " O, Jupiter, aid us! Blue pill
and black draught."

Dr. Kenyon found the mucous membrane was
irritated and required soothing. " O, Jupiter, &c.
Blue pill and Seidlitz powder."

Mrs. Dodd returned home consoled and
confused; Julia listless and apathetic. Tea was
ordered, with two or three kinds of bread, thinnest
slices of meat, and a little blanc mange, &c.,
their favourite repast after a journey; and, whilst
the tea was drawing, Mrs. Dodd looked over the
card-tray and enumerated the visitors that had
called during their absence: "Dr. Short — Mr.
Osmond — Mrs. Hetherington — Mr. Alfred
Hardie— Lady Dewry — Mrs. and Miss Bosanquet.
What a pity Edward was not at home, dear ; Mr.
Alfred Hardie's visit must have been to him."

"Oh, of course, mamma."

"A very manly young gentleman."

"Oh yes. No. He is so rude."

"Is he? Ah, he was ill just then, and pain
irritates gentlemen: they are not accustomed to
it, poor Things."

"That is like you, dear mamma; making
excuses for one." Julia added, faintly, " but he is
so impetuous."

"I have a daughter who reconciles me to
impetuosity. And he must have a good heart, he
was so kind to my boy."

Julia looked down smiling; but presently
seemed to be seized with a spirit of contradiction;
she began to pick poor Alfred to pieces;
he was this, that, and the other; and then so
bold, she might say impudent.

Mrs. Dodd replied calmly that he was very
kind to her boy.

"Oh, mamma, you cannot approve all the
words he spoke."

"It is not worth while to remember all the
words young gentlemen speak, now-a-days; he
was very kind to my boy, I remember that."

The tea was now ready, and Mrs. Dodd sat
down, and patted a chair, with a smile of invitation
for Julia to come and sit beside her. But
Julia said, " In one minute, dear," and left the
room.

When she came back, she fluttered up to her
mother and kissed her vehemently, then sat
down radiant. " Ah!" said Mrs. Dodd, " why,
you are looking yourself once more. How do
you feel now? Better?"

"How do I feel? Let me see: the world
seems one e-nor-mous flower-garden, and Me the
butterfly it all belongs to." She spake, and
to confirm her words the airy thing went waltzing,
sailing, and fluttering round the room, and
sipping mamma every now and then on the
wing.

In this buoyancy she remained some twenty-
four hours; and then came clouds and chills,
which, in their turn, gave way to exultation,
duly followed by depression. Her spirits
were so uncertain, that things too minute to
justify narration turned the scale either way:
a word from Mrs. Dodd — a new face at St. Anne's
Church looking devoutly her way — a piece of
town gossip distilled in her ear by Mrs. Maxley —
and she was sprightly or languid, and both
more than reason.

Mrs. Dodd had not the clue; and each extreme
caused her anxiety; for her own constitution,
and her experience of life, led her to connect
health, and happiness too, with gentle, even
spirits.

One drizzly afternoon they were sitting silent
and saddish in the drawing-room, Mrs. Dodd