VERY HARD CASH.

BT THE AUTHOR OF " IT IS NEVER TOO LATE TO MEND.''

CHAPTER XLIX.

JULIA, as I have said, went to her own room,
wounded unintentionally by a chance speech:
she sat down sick at heart; and presently opened
her window and looked out upon the starry
night, and wondered where Alfred was now;
that Alfred for whom nobody else had a human
heart, it seemed. "Alfred! my poor Alfred!"
she sighed, and half-expected to hear him reply.
Then she said to herself, " They all called you
false but me; yet I was right: and now they
all call you mad; but not I: I believe nothing
against you. You are my own Alfred still.
Where have the wretches driven you to?" At
this her feelings carried her away, and she cried
aloud on him despairingly, and leaned upon the
window-sill, and the tears ran fast for him.

Presently out of the silence of the night
seemed to struggle a faint but clear voice:

"Julia!"

She started, and a muffled scream came from
her. Then she listened, all trembling. Again
the voice sighed, faintly but clear, " Julia!"

"Alfred?" said she, quavering.

"Yes. Pray be cautious; give no alarm.
The house is watched; bring Edward."

She flew down stairs, and electrified Edward
and Sampson with the news. " Oh, promise me
not to betray him!" she cried.

"Hut!" said the doctor, starting to his feet,
"what should we betray him for? I'll cure him
for you. I can cure any lunatic that has lucid
intervals. Where is he?"

"Follow me," gasped Julia. " Stay. I'll get
rid of the servants first. I'll not play the fool,
and betray him to his enemies." She sent Sarah
eastward, and Jane westward, and then led the
way through the kitchen door into the yard.

They all searched about, and found nothing.
Then Julia begged them to be silent. She
whispered, "Alfred!" And instantly a faint voice
issued from the top of a waggon laden witli hay
and covered with a tarpaulin. " Julia!"

They all stood staring.

"Who are those with you?" asked Alfred
uneasily.

"Only friends, dear! Edward and Dr. Sampson,"

"Ned, old fellow," groaned Alfred, "you
pulled me out of the fire; won't you help me
out of this? I think my leg is broken."

At this Julia wrung her hands, and Edward
ran into the house for his rope, and threw it over
the waggon. He told Julia and Sampson to
hold on by one end, and seizing the other, was
up on the waggon in a moment. He felt about
till he came to a protuberance; and that was
Alfred under the tarpaulin, in which he had cut
breathing-holes with his penknife. Edward sent
Julia in for a carving-knife, and soon made an
enormous slit: through this a well-known figure
emerged into the moonlight, and seemed wonderfully
tall to have been so hidden. His hands
being uninjured, he easily descended the rope,
and stood on one leg holding it. Then Sampson
and Edward put each an arm under his, and
helped him into the house.

After the body the mind. That is the rule
throughout creation. They examined, not his
reason, but his leg. Julia stood by with clasped
hands, and a face beaming with pity and anxiety,
that repaid his pain. Sampson announced there
were no bones broken, but a bad sprain, and the
limb very red and swollen. "Now," inquired
he briskly of the company, " what is the practice
in sprains? Why, leeches and cold water."

Edward offered at once to run and get them.

"Are ye mad?" was the reply. "Daun't I tell
ye that is the practice? And isn't the practice
sure to be th' opposite of the remedy? So get
water as hot as he can bear it, and no leeches."

Julia remonstrated angrily. "Is this a case
for jesting?"

"Deevil a jest in it," replied the doctor..
"Well then, if ye must know, th' opera-dancers
apply hot water to sprains: now what is their
interest? t' expedite the cure: and the faculty
apply cold water: and what is their interest? to
procrastinate the cure, and make a long job of it.
So just hold your tongues, and ring for hot water."

Julia did not ring; she beckoned Edward, and
they flew out and soon brought a foot-pan of hot
water. Edward then removed Alfred's shoes
and stockings, and Julia bared her lovely arms,
and blushed like a rose.

Alfred divined her intention. "Dear Julia,"
he said, " I won't let you: that is too high an
honour. Sarah can do that."

But Julia's blood was up. " Sarah?" said she,
contemptuously; "she is too heavy handed: