"Oh, but he is so clever, you know," said
Lucy, with reverence. "And he has cured
that old Lady Pilpay!"

"I don't know," said Vivian, "but he agrees
with everything I say. I said, yesterday, I
should like a glass of good Burgundy, and
would give the world for it. 'Well,' he said,
'Colonel Vivian'—and he is always ringing my
name and title in a most disagreeable way—
'well, Colonel Vivian, I don't know but that
you are right.' When he had gone away, I
remembered that he had said a few days ago that
wine would be 'like prussic acid for me.'"

"Ah, yes," said the dear girl, eagerly.
"Don't you see? That is the new system—whatever
the patient likes or wishes for. He
explained it all to us. 'That is nature,' he says,
'crying out.' Oh, he is very, very clever."
Vivian laughed long, and loud, and merrily.

" ' But,' I said, 'if nature keeps crying out
for opposite things?' That poor Macan—I
suspect he knows more——"

"Yes," said Lucy, hesitating; "only he is so
—so fond of punch. Now, if he came here some
day in that state, and made a mistake about
medicine, oh, I should never forgive myself!"

Vivian looked at her with inexpressible
interest and fondness. She was colouring.

"Very well," he said, "that's settled. We
shan't have him. Though, indeed, if a mistake
were made with me——" and he sighed.

"Sighing and low-spirited," said she, eagerly.
"Now you mustn't give up to this; you
promised me."

They talked of a hundred things.
Delightful mornings, these, for Lucy. Charming
hours! It was like playing sweet music. These
were the old hours she looked back to. "And
you like them," she went on, speaking of
Madame Jaques. "Such a dear pair! I am so
interested in them. And yet I am afraid, do you
know," she added in her wistfully confidential
way, which was one of her charms, "they are
not doing so well. It is a dreadful place. And
their landlord is very rapacious, you know."

"Then their tenant must make it up to
them," said he, delighted to please her. "I
am really getting ashamed to be living at such
a small charge. Next week, positively, I shall
raise the rent on myself. By the way, their maid
Nanon, I am not pleased with her. Perhaps I do
her wrong; but somehow I have my strong
suspicions."

"Of what?" said Lucy, showing in her
face she was shocked.

"Oh, it is nothing; a few fancies, perhaps,
now and again. But she is always hanging
about after my papers, and, I think, a sort of
ally of that dreadful doctor, whom I wish I was
rid of—I do indeed!"

Some thought that came into his mind,
suggested by his papers, agitated him dreadfully.
He had risen, and was walking about.
"You should not be here; nor come in to
me in this way. It was foolish, cruel, wicked
of me to suffer it! You, Miss Dacres, you
cannot understand. You are fresh from a
school, how can you ask me to stay on in
this place? I, a soldier, and with duties
to look to I—have no business with things of
this sort. I am well enough, and strong enough,
to go away; and if I had the heart of a man, I
should fly by to-night's packet."

Poor Lucy was aghast at this burst. She
rose from her seat.

"Sit down for a minute longer," he said,
seizing her hand.

"What can you have to say?" said Lucy,
growing agitated. "Oh, indeed, I oughtn't
to stay."

"What I have to say?" repeated he. " What I
must tell you now, no matter at what cost—that
you are, indeed, the dear girl, the dearest——"

Lucy saw him sinking down almost to her feet.
She was pale, fluttering, agitated; she knew
not what was coming, yet she made no protest.
It seemed to her, afterwards, that that moment
verged on paradise. But a sudden sound at
the door, not, strange to say, as of its being
opened, but as of its being closed, broke the
dream, and startled both. Next moment they
heard a tap; the next, Dr. White entered.

One afternoon, a short time after, Mr. Vivian,
now grown quite strong, was going to the pier to
meet The Dear Girl, as a little surprise. He had
gone away a street or two, when he found he had
forgotten something, and returned. Madame
Jaques was at the back, in the garden, with her
maid, and did not see him come in. His bedroom
opened off his sitting-room, and inside the
bedroom was a little cupboard where he kept some
of his "things." He was looking about softly
here, with the doors open, and found what he
wanted, when he saw some one in the sitting-
room, stooping down over the table, and reading.
Looking again, and still making no noise, he
saw now that it was Doctor White.

There was a start and clatter as of shutting
down lids, and the doctor's pale face was fixed
on him, and the doctor's trembling fingers were
on a little desk of Vivian's, not having time to
get away. Vivian saw it all now. He remained
a moment looking at him from head to foot.

"This is charming work," said Vivian at last.
"Fortunate I came in time. Leave the room,
sir—leave the house—never dare to enter it
again!"

"Take care that I do not expose you. It is
my duty to put honest people on their guard."

The other turned on him quickly. The former
obsequious humble insinuation had all gone.
Instead, there was a dark wicked-looking man.

"Then you had better take care. I give
you a plain warning. I am not to be trifled
with, nor my character either. So be very
cautious. I tell you, you are mistaken in what
you think. I am curious in little cabinets
—there seems something curious in that lock."

Vivian laughed scornfully.

"This is like the impudence of a thief in the
dock."

"No matter what it is like," said the other,
taking his hat. " Keep my caution in mind.
Otherwise, take care. Any man who calumniates
me, I know how to calumniate him, and hope to
do it better too." He left Vivian in a rage.