carriage was there, and they were all out on the
steps. There is the last embracing and last good
wishes; and Lucy, in sober travelling dress, yet
magnificent, stoops down and lifts her veil to
kiss the little man, who has put up his face.
Now they drive away, and the "old shoe,"
searched for and found with difficulty, flies into
the air after them. A cluster of faces, half
sorrowful, half pleased, look long after them.

Then came the lull—the sudden prostration
which sets in after all such excitement. That
day becomes of a sudden purposeless—a day
for weary and vacant wandering, when no one
can settle himself to anything. It was felt, too,
that the light of that house had gone out, and
that there was a change.

Colonel Howard, however, was not mending,
and they were beginning to be in serious
concern about his state. And about four o'clock
Edward said he would go over to the doctor's
house, not two miles away round by the lake,
and see if he had returned. The doctor knew
of some greater doctor whom he had to meet
not far away that very day, and who might be
readily secured also. It was determined not to
say a word of this little plot to Colonel Howard,
who would raise difficulties, and protest he was
getting well.

The little man soon heard of this proposal,
and saw in it at once a plan for advancing his
own little interest and pleasure.

"Oh, then, I can go too," he said, "and see
all the telescopes again. I was promised, you
know."

"The very thing," said Edward; "we shall
make an expedition together. But mind, now,
not a word to papa. We are going for a great
doctor, and if he hears it he will not see one,
and perhaps he will never get well."

"Never get well," repeated the little man,
anxiously.

"I mean," said Edward Howard, "if he
does not see the doctor; none of us can be well
unless we see doctors."

He had still some misgivings. "But," said
he, wisely, "it is all for papa's good; and I
am dying to see those telescopes again. Whisper,
I'll not tell papa a word."

Andy appeared suddenly. "Where are you
taking him to, Misther Edward? Have you
spoke with the masther about it?"

"Oh, all right, Andy, and quite right of you.
But I'll make it all square. We are going for
a doctor, and not a word is to be said to him,
you understand."

Andy shook his head.

"Masther Friddy, you'd better go in and tell
the masther yourself. That's the raysonable
way."

"Now, Andy," said the young man, seriously,
"you mustn't interfere here; we want to get a
doctor. You don't understand these things.
And you know very well how hard it is to get
my brother to take care of himself."

"Oh, so be it; so be it," said Andy, coolly.
"Only," he added, muttering, "wait until to-
morrow next day."

"So we can, Andy, and till the day after
too," said the young man, laughing.

The little man laughed too. "Oh, Andy," he
said, "how funny.  But I think, Andy, you
don't quite understand."

The young man went to his room to get a
coat and write a letter for the post. The little
man was wrapped up in his coat, and ready for
the road in a moment. He waited a little
impatiently in the hall a few moments, and then
went out through the garden round by the back
of the house. Howard had a longer letter to
write than he fancied, and took a longer time
over it, and then came out hastily. He found
the little fellow gone.

"The impatient little rascal," he said. "He
is busy with some tricks in the garden." But
he was not in the garden. Then Howard
hurried across the field, and was greatly relieved
by hearing the voice of the little man calling to
him cheerfully in a sort of chirrup of delight.
He was playing "hide and go seek;" was up in
a tree?

By one of those curious coincidences which
are almost unaccountable, Colonel Howard,
almost as soon as they had gone, thought of his
little son, and rang his bell for Andy. The
little secret about the doctor was now sure to
come out. " Sorra o' me knows where he is,
colonel. He said he was to go with the
brother over to the docthor man."

"Go with Edward!" repeated the colonel,
starting up suddenly. " How dare you trust
him out of your sight? Did I not depend on
you?"

"Sorra a one o' me could help it," said Andy.
"Sure I thought Misther Edward was now
next to yourself."

"To be sure, to be sure," said his master,
colouring and letting himself fall back on the
sofa. "You did quite right, Andy. The poor
child can't be shut up altogether. But when
will they be back, Andy?"

"Oh, be raysonable yourself now," said the
other, coolly; "you know they are only gone
now."

"Oh, to be sure. But mind, Andy, the
moment they come in send him to me."

Edward went hastily towards the lake, from
whence the voice seemed to come.

"What folly of me," he said, "to let him go.
Troublesome child!"

In a moment he caught sight of the
"troublesome child," standing in a little punt which
was drawn up close to the shore. He was in a
tumult of delight, and clapping his hands
eagerly, from sheer spirits.

"I found this," he cried. "Only think! We
must go in this; it will be much shorter."

The bank overhung the river, and was very
steep.

"Take care, take care!" cried Howard, in
an agony of terror. "How did you get there?
Stay where you are till I come down."

"We must go in the boat, mustn't we?"
said the little fellow, standing in the bows with
one of the small oars in his hands. "We will