A SIMPLETON

By Charles Reade

PREFACE. 

It has lately been objected to me, in studiously courteous terms ofcourse, that I borrow from other books, and am a plagiarist. To thisI reply that I borrow facts from every accessible source, and am not aplagiarist. The plagiarist is one who borrows from a homogeneous work:for such a man borrows not ideas only, but their treatment. He whoborrows only from heterogeneous works is not a plagiarist. All fiction, worth a button, is founded on facts; and it does not matter one strawwhether the facts are taken from personal experience, hearsay, orprinted books; only those books must not be works of fiction. 

Ask your common sense why a man writes better fiction at forty than hecan at twenty. It is simply because he has gathered more facts from eachof these three sources, --experience, hearsay, print. 

To those who have science enough to appreciate the above distinction, I am very willing to admit that in all my tales I use a vast deal ofheterogeneous material, which in a life of study I have gathered frommen, journals, blue-books, histories, biographies, law reports, etc. Andif I could, I would gladly specify all the various printed sources towhich I am indebted. But my memory is not equal to such a feat. I canonly say that I rarely write a novel without milking about two hundredheterogeneous cows into my pail, and that "A Simpleton" is no exceptionto my general method; that method is the true method, and the best, andif on that method I do not write prime novels, it is the fault of theman, and not of the method. 

I give the following particulars as an illustration of my method:

In "A Simpleton, " the whole business of the girl spitting blood, thesurgeon ascribing it to the liver, the consultation, the final solutionof the mystery, is a matter of personal experience accurately recorded. But the rest of the medical truths, both fact and argument, are all frommedical books far too numerous to specify. This includes the strangefluctuations of memory in a man recovering his reason by degrees. Thebehavior of the doctor's first two patients I had from a surgeon'sdaughter in Pimlico. The servant-girl and her box; the purple-faced, pig-faced Beak and his justice, are personal experience. The business ofhouse-renting, and the auction-room, is also personal experience. 

In the nautical business I had the assistance of two practical seamen:my brother, William Barrington Reade, and Commander Charles EdwardReade, R. N. 

In the South African business I gleaned from Mr. Day's recent handbooks;the old handbooks; Galton's "Vacation Tourist;" "Philip Mavor; or, Lifeamong the Caffres;" "Fossor;" "Notes on the Cape of Good Hope, " 1821;"Scenes and Occurrences in Albany and Caffre-land, " 1827; Bowler's"South African Sketches;" "A Campaign in South Africa, " Lucas; "FiveYears in Caffre-land, " Mrs. Ward; etc. , etc. , etc. But my principalobligation on this head is to Mr. Boyle, the author of some admirableletters to the Daily telegraph, which he afterwards reprinted in adelightful volume. Mr. Boyle has a painter's eye, and a writer's pen, and if the African scenes in "A Simpleton" please my readers, I hopethey will go to the fountain-head, where they will find many more. 

As to the plot and characters, they are invented. 

The title, "A Simpleton, " is not quite new. There is a Frenchplay called La Niaise. But La Niaise is in reality a woman of rareintelligence, who is taken for a simpleton by a lot of conceited fools, and the play runs on their blunders, and her unpretending wisdom. Thatis a very fine plot, which I recommend to our female novelists. My aimin these pages has been much humbler, and is, I hope, too clear to needexplanation. 

CHARLES READE. 

A SIMPLETON. 

CHAPTER I. 

A young lady sat pricking a framed canvas in the drawing-room of KentVilla, a mile from Gravesend; she was making, at a cost of time andtinted wool, a chair cover, admirably unfit to be sat upon--except bysome severe artist, bent on obliterating discordant colors. To do herjustice, her mind was not in her work; for she rustled softly withrestlessness as she sat, and she rose three times in twenty minutes, andwent to the window. Thence she looked down, over a trim flowerylawn, and long, sloping meadows, on to the silver Thames, alive withsteamboats ploughing, white sails bellying, and great ships carrying toand fro the treasures of the globe. From this fair landscape and epitomeof commerce she retired each time with listless disdain; she was waitingfor somebody. 

Yet she was one of those whom few men care to keep waiting. RosaLusignan was a dark but dazzling beauty, with coal-black hair, andglorious dark eyes, that seemed to beam with soul all day long; hereyebrows, black, straightish, and rather thick, would have been majesticand too severe, had the other features followed suit; but her blackbrows were succeeded by long silky lashes, a sweet oval face, twopouting lips studded with ivory, and an exquisite chin, as feeble as anyman could desire in the partner of his bosom. Person--straight, elastic, and rather tall. Mind--nineteen. Accomplishments--numerous; a poorFrench scholar, a worse German, a worse English, an admirable dancer, an inaccurate musician, a good rider, a bad draughtswoman, a badhairdresser, at the mercy of her maid; a hot theologian, knowingnothing, a sorry accountant, no housekeeper, no seamstress, a fairembroideress, a capital geographer, and no cook. 

Collectively, viz. , mind and body, the girl we kneel to. 

This ornamental member of society now glanced at the clock once more, and then glided to the window for the fourth time. She peeped at theside a good while, with superfluous slyness or shyness, and presentlyshe drew back, blushing crimson; then she peeped again, still morefurtively; then retired softly to her frame, and, for the first time, set to work in earnest. As she plied her harpoon, smiling now, the largeand vivid blush, that had suffused her face and throat, turned fromcarnation to rose, and melted away slowly, but perceptibly, and ever sosweetly; and somebody knocked at the street door. 

The blow seemed to drive her deeper into her work. She leaned over it, graceful as a willow, and so absorbed, she could not even see the doorof the room open and Dr. Staines come in. 

All the better: her not perceiving that slight addition to her furnituregives me a moment to describe him. 

A young man, five feet eleven inches high, very square shouldered anddeep chested, but so symmetrical, and light in his movements, that hissize hardly struck one at first. He was smooth shaved, all but a short, thick, auburn whisker; his hair was brown. His features no more thencomely: the brow full, the eyes wide apart and deep-seated, the lipsrather thin, but expressive, the chin solid and square. It was a faceof power, and capable of harshness; but relieved by an eye of unusualcolor, between hazel and gray, and wonderfully tender. In complexionhe could not compare with Rosa; his cheek was clear, but pale; forfew young men had studied night and day so constantly. Though buttwenty-eight years of age, he was literally a learned physician; deep inhospital practice; deep in books; especially deep in German science, too often neglected or skimmed by English physicians. He had delivered acourse of lectures at a learned university with general applause. 

As my reader has divined, Rosa was preparing the comedy of a coolreception; but looking up, she saw his pale cheek tinted with a lover'sbeautiful joy at the bare sight of her, and his soft eye so divine withlove, that she had not the heart to chill him. She gave him her handkindly, and smiled brightly on him instead of remonstrating. She lostnothing by it, for the very first thing he did was to excuse himselfeagerly. "I am behind time: the fact is, just as I was mounting myhorse, a poor man came to the gate to consult me. He had a terribledisorder I have sometimes succeeded in arresting--I attack the causeinstead of the symptoms, which is the old practice--and so that detainedme. You forgive me?"

"Of course. Poor man!--only you said you wanted to see papa, and healways goes out at two. "

When she had been betrayed into saying this, she drew in suddenly, andblushed with a pretty consciousness. 

"Then don't let me lose another minute, " said the lover. "Have youprepared him for--for--what I am going to have the audacity to say?"

Rosa answered, with some hesitation, "I MUST have--a little. When Irefused Colonel Bright--you need not devour my hand quite--he is forty. "

Her sentence ended, and away went the original topic, and grammaticalsequence along with it. Christopher Staines recaptured them both. "Yes, dear, when you refused Colonel Bright"--

"Well, papa was astonished; for everybody says the colonel is a mosteligible match. Don't you hate that expression? I do. Eligible!"

Christopher made due haste, and recaptured her. "Yes, love, your papasaid"--

"I don't think I will tell you. He asked me was there anybody else; andof course I said 'No. '"

"Oh!"

"Oh, that is nothing; I had not time to make up my mind to tell thetruth. I was taken by surprise; and you know one's first impulse is tofib--about THAT. "

"But did you really deceive him?"

"No, I blushed; and he caught me; so he said, 'Come, now, there was. '"

"And you said, 'Yes, there is, ' like a brave girl as you are. "

"What, plump like that? No, I was frightened out of my wits, like abrave girl as I am not, and said I should never marry any one he coulddisapprove; and then--oh, then I believe I began to cry. Christopher, I'll tell you something; I find people leave off teasing you when youcry--gentlemen, I mean. Ladies go on all the more. So then dear papakissed me, and told me I must not be imprudent, and throw myself away, that was all; and I promised him I never would. I said he would be sureto approve my choice; and he said he hoped so. And so he will. "

Dr. Staines looked thoughtful, and said he hoped so too. "But nowit comes to the point of asking him for such a treasure, I feel mydeficiencies. "

"Why, what deficiencies? You are young, and handsome, and good, and everso much cleverer than other people. You have only to ask for me, andinsist on having me. Come, dear, go and get it over. " She added, mightycoolly, "There is nothing so DREADFUL as suspense. "

"I'll go this minute, " said he, and took a step towards the door; but heturned, and in a moment was at her knees. He took both her hands in his, and pressed them to his beating bosom, while his beautiful eyes pouredlove into hers point-blank. "May I tell him you love me? Oh, I know youcannot love me as I love you; but I may say you love me a little, may Inot?--that will go farther with him than anything else. May I, Rosa, mayI?--a little?"

His passion mastered her. She dropped her head sweetly on his shoulder, and murmured, "You know you may, my own. Who would not love you?"

He parted lingeringly from her, then marched away, bold with love andhope, to demand her hand in marriage. 

Rosa leaned back in her chair, and quivered a little with new emotions. Christopher was right; she was not capable of loving like him; butstill the actual contact of so strong a passion made her woman's naturevibrate. A dewy tear hung on the fringes of her long lashes, and sheleaned back in her chair and fluttered awhile. 

That emotion, almost new to her, soon yielded, in her girlish mind, to acomplacent languor; and that, in its turn, to a soft reverie. So she wasgoing to be married! To be mistress of a house; settle in London (THATshe had quite determined long ago); be able to go out into the streetsall alone, to shop, or visit; have a gentleman all her own, whom shecould put her finger on any moment and make him take her about, even tothe opera and the theatre; to give dinner-parties her own self, and evena little ball once in a way; to buy whatever dresses she thought proper, instead of being crippled by an allowance; have the legal right ofspeaking first in society, even to gentlemen rich in ideas but badstarters, instead of sitting mumchance and mock-modest; to be Mistress, instead of Miss--contemptible title; to be a woman, instead of a girl;and all this rational liberty, domestic power, and social dignity wereto be obtained by merely wedding a dear fellow, who loved her, and wasso nice; and the bright career to be ushered in with several delights, each of them dear to a girl's very soul: presents from all her friends;as many beautiful new dresses as if she was changing her body or herhemisphere, instead of her name; eclat; going to church, which is agood English girl's theatre of display and temple of vanity, and theretasting delightful publicity and whispered admiration, in a heavenlylong veil, which she could not wear even once if she remained single. 

This bright variegated picture of holy wedlock, and its essentialfeatures, as revealed to young ladies by feminine tradition, though notenumerated in the Book of Common Prayer writ by grim males, so entrancedher, that time flew by unheeded, and Christopher Staines came back fromher father. His step was heavy; he looked pale, and deeply distressed;then stood like a statue, and did not come close to her, but cast apiteous look, and gasped out one word, that seemed almost to chokehim, --"REFUSED!"

Miss Lusignan rose from her chair, and looked almost wildly at him withher great eyes. "Refused?" said she, faintly. 

"Yes, " said he, sadly. "Your father is a man of business; and he tooka mere business view of our love: he asked me directly what provisionI could make for his daughter and her children. Well, I told him I hadthree thousand pounds in the Funds, and a good profession; and then Isaid I had youth, health, and love, boundless love, the love that cando, or suffer, the love that can conquer the world. "

"Dear Christopher! And what COULD he say to all that?"

"He ignored it entirely. There! I'll give you his very words. He said, 'In that case, Dr. Staines, the simple question is, what does yourprofession bring you in per annum?'"

"Oh! There! I always hated arithmetic, and now I abominate it. "

"Then I was obliged to confess I had scarcely received a hundred poundsin fees this year; but I told him the reason; this is such a smalldistrict, and all the ground occupied. London, I said, was my sphere. "

"And so it is, " said Rosa, eagerly; for this jumped with her own littledesigns. "Genius is wasted in the country. Besides, whenever anybodyworth curing is ill down here, they always send to London for a doctor. "

"I told him so, dearest, " said the lover. "But he answered me directly, then I must set up in London, and as soon as my books showed an incometo keep a wife, and servants, and children, and insure my life for fivethousand pounds"--

"Oh, that is so like papa. He is director of an insurance company, soall the world must insure their lives. "

"No, dear, he was quite right there: professional incomes are mostprecarious. Death spares neither young nor old, neither warm heartsnor cold. I should be no true physician if I could not see my ownmortality. " He hung his head and pondered a moment, then went on, sadly, "It all comes to this--until I have a professional income of eighthundred a year at least, he will not hear of our marrying; and the cruelthing is, he will not even consent to an engagement. But, " said therejected, with a look of sad anxiety, "you will wait for me withoutthat, dear Rosa?"

She could give him that comfort, and she gave it him with lovingearnestness. "Of course I will; and it shall not be very long. Whilstyou are making your fortune, to please papa, I will keep fretting, andpouting, and crying, till he sends for you. "

"Bless you, dearest! Stop!--not to make yourself ill! not for all theworld. " The lover and the physician spoke in turn. 

He came, all gratitude, to her side, and they sat, hand in hand, comforting each other: indeed, parting was such sweet sorrow that theysat, handed, and very close to one another, till Mr. Lusignan, whothought five minutes quite enough for rational beings to take leave in, walked into the room and surprised them. At sight of his gray head andiron-gray eyebrows, Christopher Staines started up and looked confused;he thought some apology necessary, so he faltered out, "Forgive me, sir;it is a bitter parting to me, you may be sure. "

Rosa's bosom heaved at these simple words. She flew to her father, and cried, "Oh, papa! papa! you were never cruel before;" and hid herburning face on his shoulder; and then burst out crying, partly forChristopher, partly because she was now ashamed of herself for havingtaken a young man's part so openly. 

Mr. Lusignan looked sadly discomposed at this outburst: she had takenhim by his weak point; he told her so. "Now, Rosa, " said he, ratherpeevishly, "you know I hate--noise. "

Rosa had actually forgotten that trait for a single moment; but, beingreminded of it, she reduced her sobs in the prettiest way, not to offenda tender parent who could not bear noise. Under this homely term, youmust know, he included all scenes, disturbances, rumpuses, passions; andexpected all men, women, and things in Kent Villa to go smoothly--or goelsewhere. 

"Come, young people, " said he, "don't make a disturbance. Where's thegrievance? Have I said he shall never marry you? Have I forbidden himto correspond? or even to call, say twice a year. All I say is, nomarriage, nor contract of marriage, until there is an income. " Then heturned to Christopher. "Now if you can't make an income without her, howcould you make one with her, weighed down by the load of expenses a wifeentails? I know her better than you do; she is a good girl, but ratherluxurious and self-indulgent. She is not cut out for a poor man's wife. And pray don't go and fancy that nobody loves my child but you. Mine isnot so hot as yours, of course; but believe me, sir, it is less selfish. You would expose her to poverty and misery; but I say no; it is my dutyto protect her from all chance of them; and, in doing it, I am as muchyour friend as hers, if you could but see it. Come, Dr. Staines, bea man, and see the world as it is. I have told you how to earn mydaughter's hand and my esteem: you must gain both, or neither. "

Dr. Staines was never quite deaf to reason: he now put his hand to hisbrow and said, with a sort of wonder and pitiful dismay, "My lovefor Rosa selfish! Sir, your words are bitter and hard. " Then, after astruggle, and with rare and touching candor, "Ay, but so are bark andsteel; yet they are good medicines. " Then with a great glow in his heartand tears in his eyes, "My darling shall not be a poor man's wife, she who would adorn a coronet, ay, or a crown. Good-by, Rosa, for thepresent. " He darted to her, and kissed her hand with all his soul. "Oh, the sacrifice of leaving you, " he faltered; "the very world is darkto me without you. Ah, well, I must earn the right to come again. " Hesummoned all his manhood, and marched to the door. There he seemed toturn calmer all of a sudden, and said firmly, yet humbly, "I'll try andshow you, sir, what love can do. "

"And I'll show you what love can suffer, " said Rosa, folding herbeautiful arms superbly. 

It was not in her to have shot such a bolt, except in imitation; yet howpromptly the mimic thunder came, and how grand the beauty looked, withher dark brows, and flashing eyes, and folded arms! much grander andmore inspired than poor Staines, who had only furnished the idea. 

But between these two figures swelling with emotion, the representativeof common sense, Lusignan pere, stood cool and impassive; he shruggedhis shoulders, and looked on both lovers as a couple of ranting noviceshe was saving from each other and almshouses. 

For all that, when the lover had torn himself away, papa's composure wassuddenly disturbed by a misgiving. He stepped hastily to the stairhead, and gave it vent. "Dr. Staines, " said he, in a loud whisper (Staines washalf way down the stairs: he stopped). "I trust to you as a gentleman, not to mention this; it will never transpire here. Whatever we do--nonoise!"

CHAPTER II. 

Rosa Lusignan set herself pining as she had promised; and she did itdiscreetly for so young a person. She was never peevish, but always sadand listless. By this means she did not anger her parent, but only madehim feel she was unhappy, and the house she had hitherto brightenedexceeding dismal. 

By degrees this noiseless melancholy undermined the old gentleman, andhe well-nigh tottered. 

But one day, calling suddenly on a neighbor with six daughters, he heardpeals of laughter, and found Rosa taking her full share of the senselessmirth. She pulled up short at sight of him, and colored high; but itwas too late, for he launched a knowing look at her on the spot, andmuttered something about seven foolish virgins. 

He took the first opportunity, when they were alone, and told her he wasglad to find she was only dismal at home. 

But Rosa had prepared for him. "One can be loud without being gay atheart, " said she, with a lofty, languid air. "I have not forgotten yourlast words to HIM. We were to hide our broken hearts from the world. Itry to obey you, dear papa; but, if I had my way, I would never gointo the world at all. I have but one desire now--to end my days in aconvent. "

"Please begin them first. A convent! Why, you'd turn it out of window. You are no more fit to be a nun than--a pauper. "

Not having foreseen this facer, Rosa had nothing ready; so she receivedit with a sad, submissive, helpless sigh, as who would say, "Hit me, papa: I have no friend now. " So then he was sorry he had been so clever;and, indeed, there is one provoking thing about "a woman's weakness"--itis invincible. 

The next minute, what should come but a long letter from Dr. Staines, detailing his endeavors to purchase a practice in London, and hisill-success. The letter spoke the language of love and hope; but thefacts were discouraging; and, indeed, a touching sadness pierced throughthe veil of the brave words. 

Rosa read it again and again, and cried over it before her father, toencourage him in his heartless behavior. 

About ten days after this, something occurred that altered her mood. 

She became grave and thoughtful, but no longer lugubrious. She seemeddesirous to atone to her father for having disturbed his cheerfulness. She smiled affectionately on him, and often sat on a stool at his knee, and glided her hand into his. 

He was not a little pleased, and said to himself, "She is coming roundto common-sense. "

Now, on the contrary, she was farther from it than ever. 

At last he got the clew. One afternoon he met Mr. Wyman coming out ofthe villa. Mr. Wyman was the consulting surgeon of that part. 

"What! anybody ill?" said Mr. Lusignan. "One of the servants?"

"No; it is Miss Lusignan. "

"Why, what is the matter with her?"

Wyman hesitated. "Oh, nothing very alarming. Would you mind asking her?"

"Why?"

"The fact is, she requested me not to tell you: made me promise. "

"And I insist upon your telling me. "

"And I think you are quite right, sir, as her father. Well, she istroubled with a little spitting of blood. "

Mr. Lusignan turned pale. "My child! spitting of blood! God forbid!"

"Oh, do not alarm yourself. It is nothing serious. "

"Don't tell me!" said the father. "It is always serious. And she keptthis from me!"

Masking his agitation for the time, he inquired how often it hadoccurred, this grave symptom. 

"Three or four times this last month. But I may as well tell you atonce: I have examined her carefully, and I do not think it is from thelungs. "

"From the throat, then?"

"No; from the liver. Everything points to that organ as the seatof derangement: not that there is any lesion; only a tendency tocongestion. I am treating her accordingly, and have no doubt of theresult. "

"Who is the ablest physician hereabouts?" asked Lusignan, abruptly. 

"Dr. Snell, I think. "

"Give me his address. "

"I'll write to him, if you like, and appoint a consultation. " He added, with vast but rather sudden alacrity, "It will be a great satisfactionto my own mind. "

"Then send to him, if you please, and let him be here to-morrow morning;if not, I shall take her to London for advice at once. "

On this understanding they parted, and Lusignan went at once to hisdaughter. "O my child!" said he, deeply distressed, "how could you hidethis from me?"

"Hide what, papa?" said the girl, looking the picture ofunconsciousness. 

"That you have been spitting blood. "

"Who told you that?" said she, sharply. 

"Wyman. He is attending you. "

Rosa colored with anger. "Chatterbox! He promised me faithfully not to. "

"But why, in Heaven's name? What! would you trust this terrible thing toa stranger, and hide it from your poor father?"

"Yes, " replied Rosa, quietly. 

The old man would not scold her now; he only said, sadly, "I see how itis: because I will not let you marry poverty, you think I do not loveyou. " And he sighed. 

"O papa! the idea!" said Rosa. "Of course, I know you love me. It wasnot that, you dear, darling, foolish papa. There! if you must know, itwas because I did not want you to be distressed. I thought I might getbetter with a little physic; and, if not, why, then I thought, 'Papa isan old man; la! I dare say I shall last his time;' and so, why should Ipoison your latter days with worrying about ME?"

Mr. Lusignan stared at her, and his lip quivered; but he thought thetrait hardly consistent with her superficial character. He could nothelp saying, half sadly, half bitterly, "Well, but of course you havetold Dr. Staines. "

Rosa opened her beautiful eyes, like two suns. "Of course I have donenothing of the sort. He has enough to trouble him, without that. Poorfellow! there he is, worrying and striving to make his fortune, and gainyour esteem--'they go together, ' you know; you told him so. " (Young catswill scratch when least expected. ) "And for me to go and tell him I amin danger! Why, he would go wild. He would think of nothing but me andmy health. He would never make his fortune: and so then, even when Iam gone, he will never get a wife, because he has only got genius andgoodness and three thousand pounds. No, papa, I have not told poorChristopher. I may tease those I love. I have been teasing YOU this everso long; but frighten them, and make them miserable? No!"

And here, thinking of the anguish that was perhaps in store for thoseshe loved, she wanted to cry; it almost choked her not to. But shefought it bravely down: she reserved her tears for lighter occasions andless noble sentiments. 

Her father held out his arms to her. She ran her footstool to him, andsat nestling to his heart. 

"Please forgive me my misconduct. I have not been a dutiful daughterever since you--but now I will. Kiss me, my own papa! There! Now we areas we always were. "

Then she purred to him on every possible topic but the one that nowfilled his parental heart, and bade him good-night at last with acheerful smile. 

Wyman was exact, and ten minutes afterwards Dr. Snell drove up in acarriage and pair. He was intercepted in the hall by Wyman, and, after afew minutes' conversation, presented to Mr. Lusignan. 

The father gave vent to his paternal anxiety in a few simple buttouching words, and was proceeding to state the symptoms as he hadgathered them from his daughter; but Dr. Snell interrupted him politely, and said he had heard the principal symptoms from Mr. Wyman. Then, turning to the latter, he said, "We had better proceed to examine thepatient. "

"Certainly, " said Mr. Lusignan. "She is in the drawing-room;" and he ledthe way, and was about to enter the room, when Wyman informed him it wasagainst etiquette for him to be present at the examination. 

"Oh, very well!" said he. "Yes, I see the propriety of that. But obligeme by asking her if she has anything on her mind. "

Dr. Snell bowed a lofty assent; for, to receive a hint from a layman wasto confer a favor on him. 

The men of science were closeted full half an hour with the patient. Shewas too beautiful to be slurred over, even by a busy doctor: he felt herpulse, looked at her tongue, and listened attentively to her lungs, toher heart, and to the organ suspected by Wyman. He left her at last witha kindly assurance that the case was perfectly curable. 

At the door they were met by the anxious father, who came with throbbingheart, and asked the doctors' verdict. 

He was coolly informed that could not be given until the consultationhad taken place; the result of that consultation would be conveyed tohim. 

"And pray, why can't I be present at the consultation? The grounds onwhich two able men agree or disagree must be well worth listening to. "

"No doubt, " said Dr. Snell; "but, " with a superior smile, "my dear sir, it is not the etiquette. "

"Oh, very well, " said Lusignan. But he muttered, "So, then, a father isnobody!"

And this unreasonable person retired to his study, miserable, and gaveup the dining-room to the consultation. 

They soon rejoined him. 

Dr. Snell's opinion was communicated by Wyman. "I am happy to tell youthat Dr. Snell agrees with me, entirely: the lungs are not affected, andthe liver is congested, but not diseased. "

"Is that so, Dr. Snell?" asked Lusignan, anxiously. 

"It is so, sir. " He added, "The treatment has been submitted to me, andI quite approve it. "

He then asked for a pen and paper, and wrote a prescription. He assuredMr. Lusignan that the case had no extraordinary feature, whatever; hewas not to alarm himself. Dr. Snell then drove away, leaving the parentrather puzzled, but, on the whole, much comforted. 

And here I must reveal an extraordinary circumstance. 

Wyman's treatment was by drugs. 

Dr. Snell's was by drugs. 

Dr. Snell, as you have seen, entirely approved Wyman's treatment. 

His own had nothing in common with it. The Arctic and Antarctic polesare not farther apart than was his prescription from the prescription hethoroughly approved. 

Amiable science! In which complete diversity of practice did notinterfere with perfect uniformity of opinion. 

All this was kept from Dr. Staines, and he was entirely occupied intrying to get a position that might lead to fortune, and satisfy Mr. Lusignan. He called on every friend he had, to inquire where there wasan opening. He walked miles and miles in the best quarters of London, looking for an opening; he let it be known in many quarters that hewould give a good premium to any physician who was about to retire, andwould introduce him to his patients. 

No: he could hear of nothing. 

Then, after a great struggle with himself, he called upon his uncle, Philip Staines, a retired M. D. , to see if he would do anything for him. He left this to the last, for a very good reason: Dr. Philip was anirritable old bachelor, who had assisted most of his married relatives;but, finding no bottom to the well, had turned rusty and crusty, and nowwas apt to administer kicks instead of checks to all who were near anddear to him. However, Christopher was the old gentleman's favorite, andwas now desperate; so he mustered courage, and went. He was graciouslyreceived--warmly, indeed. This gave him great hopes, and he told histale. 

The old bachelor sided with Mr. Lusignan. "What!" said he, "do youwant to marry, and propagate pauperism? I thought you had more sense. Confound it all I had just one nephew whose knock at my street-door didnot make me tremble; he was a bachelor and a thinker, and came for afriendly chat; the rest are married men, highwaymen, who come to say, 'Stand and deliver;' and now even you want to join the giddy throng. Well, don't ask me to have any hand in it. You are a man of promise; andyou might as well hang a millstone round your neck as a wife. Marriageis a greater mistake than ever now; the women dress more and manageworse. I met your cousin Jack the other day, and his wife with seventypounds on her back; and next door to paupers. No; whilst you are abachelor, like me, you are my favorite, and down in my will for a lump. Once marry, and you join the noble army of foot-pads, leeches, vultures, paupers, gone coons, and babblers about brats--and I disown you. "

There was no hope from old Crusty. Christopher left him, snubbed andheart-sick. At last he met a sensible man, who made him see there wasno short cut in that profession. He must be content to play the up-hillgame; must settle in some good neighborhood; marry, if possible, sincehusbands and fathers of families prefer married physicians; and so bepoor at thirty, comfortable at forty, and rich at fifty--perhaps. 

Then Christopher came down to his lodgings at Gravesend, and was veryunhappy; and after some days of misery, he wrote a letter to Rosa in amoment of impatience, despondency, and passion. 

Rosa Lusignan got worse and worse. The slight but frequent hemorrhagewas a drain upon her system, and weakened her visibly. She began to loseher rich complexion, and sometimes looked almost sallow; and a slightcircle showed itself under her eyes. These symptoms were unfavorable;nevertheless, Dr. Snell and Mr. Wyman accepted them cheerfully, as freshindications that nothing was affected but the liver; they multiplied andvaried their prescriptions; the malady ignored those prescriptions, andwent steadily on. Mr. Lusignan was terrified but helpless. Rosa resignedand reticent. 

But it was not in human nature that a girl of this age could always andat all hours be mistress of herself. One evening in particular she stoodbefore the glass in the drawing-room, and looked at herself a longtime with horror. "Is that Rosa Lusignan?" said she, aloud; "it is herghost. "

A deep groan startled her. She turned; it was her father. She thought hewas fast asleep; and so indeed he had been; but he was just awaking, andheard his daughter utter her real mind. It was a thunder-clap. "Oh, mychild! what shall I do?" he cried. 

Then Rosa was taken by surprise in her turn. She spoke out. "Send fora great physician, papa. Don't let us deceive ourselves; it is our onlychance. "

"I will ask Mr. Wyman to get a physician down from London. "

"No, no; that is no use; they will put their heads together, and he willsay whatever Mr. Wyman tells him. La! papa, a clever man like you, notto see what a cheat that consultation was. Why, from what you told me, one can see it was managed so that Dr. Snell could not possibly have anopinion of his own. No; no more echoes of Mr. Chatterbox. If you reallywant to cure me, send for Christopher Staines. "

"Dr. Staines! he is very young. "

"But he is very clever, and he is not an echo. He won't care how manydoctors he contradicts when I am in danger. Papa, it is your child's onechance. "

"I'll try it, " said the old man, eagerly. "How confident you look! yourcolor has come back. It is an inspiration. Where is he?"

"I think by this time he must be at his lodgings in Gravesend. Send tohim to-morrow morning. "

"Not I! I'll go to him to-night. It is only a mile, and a fine clearnight. "

"My own, good, kind papa! Ah! well, come what may, I have lived longenough to be loved. Yes, dear papa, save me. I am very young to die; andhe loves me so dearly. "

The old man bustled away to put on something warmer for his night walk, and Rosa leaned back, and the tears welled out of her eyes, now he wasgone. 

Before she had recovered her composure, a letter was brought her, andthis was the letter from Christopher Staines, alluded to already. 

She took it from the servant with averted head, not wishing it to beseen she had been crying, and she started at the handwriting; it seemedsuch a coincidence that it should come just as she was sending for him. 

MY OWN BELOVED ROSA, --I now write to tell you, with a heavy heart, thatall is vain. I cannot make, nor purchase, a connection, except as othersdo, by time and patience. Being a bachelor is quite against a youngphysician. If I had a wife, and such a wife as you, I should be sureto get on; you would increase my connection very soon. What, then, lies before us? I see but two things--to wait till we are old, and ourpockets are filled, but our hearts chilled or soured; or else to marryat once, and climb the hill together. If you love me as I love you, youwill be saving till the battle is over; and I feel I could find energyand fortitude for both. Your father, who thinks so much of wealth, cansurely settle something on YOU; and I am not too poor to furnish a houseand start fair. I am not quite obscure--my lectures have given me aname--and to you, my own love, I hope I may say that I know more thanmany of my elders, thanks to good schools, good method, a genuine loveof my noble profession, and a tendency to study from my childhood. Willyou not risk something on my ability? If not, God help me, for I shalllose you; and what is life, or fame, or wealth, or any mortal thing tome, without you? I cannot accept your father's decision; YOU must decidemy fate. 

You see I have kept away from you until I can do so no more. All thistime the world to me has seemed to want the sun, and my heart pines andsickens for one sight of you. 

Darling Rosa, pray let me look at your face once more. 

When this reaches you I shall be at your gate. Let me see you, thoughbut for a moment, and let me hear my fate from no lips but yours. --Myown love, your heart-broken lover, CHRISTOPHER STAINES. 

This letter stunned her at first. Her mind of late had been turned awayfrom love to such stern realities. Now she began to be sorry she had nottold him. "Poor thing!" she said to herself, "he little knows that nowall is changed. Papa, I sometimes think, would deny me nothing now; itis I who would not marry him--to be buried by him in a month or two. Poor Christopher!"

The next moment she started up in dismay. Why, her father would misshim. No; perhaps catch him waiting for her. What would he think? Whatwould Christopher think?--that she had shown her papa his letter. 

She rang the bell hard. The footman came. 

"Send Harriet to me this instant. Oh, and ask papa to come to me. "

Then she sat down and dashed off a line to Christopher. This was forHarriet to take out to him. Anything better than for Christopher to becaught doing what was wrong. 

The footman came back first. "If you please, miss, master has gone out. "

"Run after him--the road to Gravesend. "

"Yes, miss. "

"No. It is no use. Never mind. "

"Yes, miss. "

Then Harriet came in. "Did you want me, miss?"

"Yes. No--never mind now. "

She was afraid to do anything for fear of making matters worse. She wentto the window, and stood looking anxiously out, with her hands working. Presently she uttered a little scream and shrank away to the sofa. Shesank down on it, half sitting, half lying, hid her face in her hands, and waited. 

Staines, with a lover's impatience, had been more than an hour at thegate, or walking up and down close by it, his heart now burning withhope, now freezing with fear, that she would decline a meeting on theseterms. 

At last the postman came, and then he saw he was too soon; but now ina few minutes Rosa would have his letter, and then he should soon knowwhether she would come or not. He looked up at the drawing-room windows. They were full of light. She was there in all probability. Yet she didnot come to them. But why should she, if she was coming out?

He walked up and down the road. She did not come. His heart began tosicken with doubt. His head drooped; and perhaps it was owing to thisthat he almost ran against a gentleman who was coming the other way. Themoon shone bright on both faces. 

"Dr. Staines!" said Mr. Lusignan surprised. Christopher uttered anejaculation more eloquent than words. 

They stared at each other. 

"You were coming to call on us?"

"N--no, " stammered Christopher. 

Lusignan thought that odd; however, he said politely, "No matter, it isfortunate. Would you mind coming in?"

"No, " faltered Christopher, and stared at him ruefully, puzzled more andmore, but beginning to think, after all, it might be a casual meeting. 

They entered the gate, and in one moment he saw Rosa at the window, andshe saw him. 

Then he altered his opinion again. Rosa had sent her father out to him. But how was this? The old man did not seem angry. Christopher's heartgave a leap inside him, and he began to glow with the wildest hopes. For, what could this mean but relenting?

Mr. Lusignan took him first into the study, and lighted two candleshimself. He did not want the servants prying. 

The lights showed Christopher a change in Mr. Lusignan. He looked tenyears older. 

"You are not well, sir, " said Christopher gently. 

"My health is well enough, but I am a broken-hearted man. Dr. Staines, forget all that passed here at your last visit. All that is over. Thankyou for loving my poor girl as you do; give me your hand; God bless you. Sir, I am sorry to say it is as a physician I invite you now. She isill, sir, very, very ill. "

"Ill! and not tell me!"

"She kept it from you, my poor friend, not to distress you; and shetried to keep it from me, but how could she? For two months she hashad some terrible complaint--it is destroying her. She is the ghost ofherself. Oh, my poor child! my child!"

The old man sobbed aloud. The young man stood trembling, and ashy pale. Still, the habits of his profession, and the experience of dangersovercome, together with a certain sense of power, kept him up; but, above all, love and duty said, "Be firm. " He asked for an outline of thesymptoms. 

They alarmed him greatly. 

"Let us lose no more time, " said he. "I will see her at once. "

"Do you object to my being present?"

"Of course not. "

"Shall I tell you what Dr. Snell says it is, and Mr. Wyman?"

"By all means--after I have seen her. "

This comforted Mr. Lusignan. He was to get an independent judgment, atall events. 

When they reached the top of the stairs, Dr. Staines paused and leanedagainst the baluster. "Give me a moment, " said he. "The patient must notknow how my heart is beating, and she must see nothing in my face butwhat I choose her to see. Give me your hand once more, sir; let us bothcontrol ourselves. Now announce me. "

Mr. Lusignan opened the door, and said, with forced cheerfulness, "Dr. Staines, my dear, come to give you the benefit of his skill. "

She lay on the sofa, just as we left her. Only her bosom began to heave. 

Then Christopher Staines drew himself up, and the majesty of knowledgeand love together seemed to dilate his noble frame. He fixed his eye onthat reclining, panting figure, and stepped lightly but firmly acrossthe room to know the worst, like a lion walking up to levelled lances. 

CHAPTER III. 

The young physician walked steadily up to his patient without taking hiseye off her, and drew a chair to her side. 

Then she took down one hand--the left--and gave it him, averting herface tenderly, and still covering it with her right; "For, " said she toherself, "I am such a fright now. " This opportune reflection, and herheaving bosom, proved that she at least felt herself something morethan his patient. Her pretty consciousness made his task more difficult;nevertheless, he only allowed himself to press her hand tenderly withboth his palms one moment, and then he entered on his functions bravely. "I am here as your physician. "

"Very well, " said she softly. 

He gently detained the hand, and put his finger lightly to her pulse; itwas palpitating, and a fallacious test. Oh, how that beating pulse, bylove's electric current, set his own heart throbbing in a moment!

He put her hand gently, reluctantly down, and said, "Oblige me byturning this way. " She turned, and he winced internally at the change inher; but his face betrayed nothing. He looked at her full; and, aftera pause, put her some questions: one was as to the color of thehemorrhage. She said it was bright red. 

"Not a tinge of purple?"

"No, " said she hopefully, mistaking him. 

He suppressed a sigh. 

Then he listened at her shoulder-blade and at her chest, and made herdraw her breath while he was listening. The acts were simple, and usualin medicine, but there was a deep, patient, silent intensity about hisway of doing them. 

Mr. Lusignan crept nearer, and stood with both hands on a table, and hisold head bowed, awaiting yet dreading the verdict. 

Up to this time, Dr. Staines, instead of tapping and squeezing, andpulling the patient about, had never touched her with his hand, and onlygrazed her with his ear; but now he said "Allow me, " and put both handsto her waist, more lightly and reverently than I can describe; "Now drawa deep breath, if you please. "

"There!"

"If you could draw a deeper still, " said he, insinuatingly. 

"There, then!" said she, a little pettishly. 

Dr. Staines's eye kindled. 

"Hum!" said he. Then, after a considerable pause, "Are you better orworse after each hemorrhage?"

"La!" said Rosa; "they never asked me that. Why, better. "

"No faintness?"

"Not a bit. "

"Rather a sense of relief, perhaps?"

"Yes; I feel lighter and better. "

The examination was concluded. 

Dr. Staines looked at Rosa, and then at her father. The agony in thataged face, and the love that agony implied, won him, and it was to theparent he turned to give his verdict. 

"The hemorrhage is from the lungs"--

Lusignan interrupted him: "From the lungs!" cried he, in dismay. 

"Yes; a slight congestion of the lungs. "

"But not incurable! Oh, not incurable, doctor!"

"Heaven forbid! It is curable--easily--by removing the cause. "

"And what is the cause?"

"The cause?"--he hesitated, and looked rather uneasy. --"Well, the cause, sir, is--tight stays. "

The tranquillity of the meeting was instantly disturbed. "Tight stays!Me!" cried Rosa. "Why, I am the loosest girl in England. Look, papa!"And, without any apparent effort, she drew herself in, and poked herlittle fist between her sash and her gown. "There!"

Dr. Staines smiled sadly and a little sarcastically: he was evidentlyshy of encountering the lady in this argument; but he was more at hisease with her father; so he turned towards him and lectured him freely. 

"That is wonderful, sir; and the first four or five female patientsthat favored me with it, made me disbelieve my other senses; but MissLusignan is now about the thirtieth who has shown me that marvellousfeat, with a calm countenance that belies the herculean effort. Naturehas her every-day miracles: a boa-constrictor, diameter seventeeninches, can swallow a buffalo; a woman, with her stays bisecting heralmost, and lacerating her skin, can yet for one moment make herselfseem slack, to deceive a juvenile physician. The snake is the miracle ofexpansion; the woman is the prodigy of contraction. "

"Highly grateful for the comparison!" cried Rosa. "Women and snakes!"

Dr. Staines blushed and looked uncomfortable. "I did not mean to beoffensive; it certainly was a very clumsy comparison. "

"What does that matter?" said Mr. Lusignan, impatiently. "Be quiet, Rosa, and let Dr. Staines and me talk sense. "

"Oh, then I am nobody in the business!" said this wise young lady. 

"You are everybody, " said Staines, soothingly. "But, " suggested he, obsequiously, "if you don't mind, I would rather explain my views toyour father--on this one subject. "

"And a pretty subject it is!"

Dr. Staines then invited Mr. Lusignan to his lodgings, and promised toexplain the matter anatomically. "Meantime, " said he, "would you be goodenough to put your hands to my waist, as I did to the patient's. "

Mr. Lusignan complied; and the patient began to titter directly, to putthem out of countenance. 

"Please observe what takes place when I draw a full breath. 

"Now apply the same test to the patient. Breathe your best, please, MissLusignan. "

The patient put on a face full of saucy mutiny. 

"To oblige us both. "

"Oh, how tiresome!"

"I am aware it is rather laborious, " said Staines, a little dryly; "butto oblige your father!"

"Oh, anything to oblige papa, " said she, spitefully. "There! And I dohope it will be the last--la! no; I don't hope that, neither. "

Dr. Staines politely ignored her little attempts to interrupt theargument. "You found, sir, that the muscles of my waist, and myintercostal ribs themselves, rose and fell with each inhalation andexhalation of air by the lungs. "

"I did; but my daughter's waist was like dead wood, and so were herlower ribs. "

At this volunteer statement, Rosa colored to her temples. "Thanks, papa!Pack me off to London, and sell me for a big doll!"

"In other words, " said the lecturer, mild and pertinacious, "with us thelungs have room to blow, and the whole bony frame expands elasticwith them, like the woodwork of a blacksmith's bellows; but with thispatient, and many of her sex, that noble and divinely framed bellows iscrippled and confined by a powerful machine of human construction; so itworks lamely and feebly: consequently too little air, and of course toolittle oxygen, passes through that spongy organ whose very life is air. Now mark the special result in this case: being otherwise healthy andvigorous, our patient's system sends into the lungs more blood than thatone crippled organ can deal with; a small quantity becomes extravasatedat odd times; it accumulates, and would become dangerous; then Nature, strengthened by sleep, and by some hours' relief from the diabolicalengine, makes an effort and flings it off: that is why the hemorrhagecomes in the morning, and why she is the better for it, feeling neitherfaint nor sick, but relieved of a weight. This, sir, is the rationale ofthe complaint; and it is to you I must look for the cure. To judge frommy other female patients, and from the few words Miss Lusignan has letfall, I fear we must not count on any very hearty co-operation from her:but you are her father, and have great authority; I conjure you to useit to the full, as you once used it--to my sorrow--in this very room. I am forgetting my character. I was asked here only as her physician. Good-evening. "

He gave a little gulp, and hurried away, with an abruptness that touchedthe father and offended the sapient daughter. 

However, Mr. Lusignan followed him, and stopped him before he left thehouse, and thanked him warmly; and to his surprise, begged him to callagain in a day or two. 

"Well, Rosa, what do you say?"

"I say that I am very unfortunate in my doctors. Mr. Wyman is achatterbox and knows nothing. Dr. Snell is Mr. Wyman's echo. Christopheris a genius, and they are always full of crotchets. A pretty doctor!Gone away, and not prescribed for me!"

Mr. Lusignan admitted it was odd. "But, after all, " said he, "ifmedicine does you no good?"

"Ah! but any medicine HE had prescribed would have done me good, andthat makes it all the unkinder. "

"If you think so highly of his skill, why not take his advice? It can dono harm. "

"No harm? Why, if I was to leave them off I should catch a dreadfulcold; and that would be sure to settle on my chest, and carry me off, in my present delicate state. Besides, it is so unfeminine not to wearthem. "

This staggered Mr. Lusignan, and he was afraid to press the point; butwhat Staines had said fermented in his mind. 

Dr. Snell and Mr. Wyman continued their visits and their prescriptions. 

The patient got a little worse. 

Mr. Lusignan hoped Christopher would call again, but he did not. 

When Dr. Staines had satisfied himself that the disorder was easilycurable, then wounded pride found an entrance even into his lovingheart. That two strangers should have been consulted before him! He wasonly sent for because they could not cure her. 

As he seemed in no hurry to repeat his visit, Mr. Lusignan called onhim, and said, politely, he had hoped to receive another call ere this. "Personally, " said he, "I was much struck with your observations; but mydaughter is afraid she will catch cold if she leaves off her corset, andthat, you know, might be very serious. "

Dr. Staines groaned, and, when he had groaned, he lectured. "Femalepatients are wonderfully monotonous in this matter; they have aprogramme of evasions; and whether the patient is a lady or a housemaid, she seldom varies from that programme. You find her breathing life's airwith half a bellows, and you tell her so. 'Oh, no, ' says she; and doesthe gigantic feat of contraction we witnessed that evening at yourhouse. But, on inquiry, you learn there is a raw red line ploughedin her flesh by the cruel stays. 'What is that?' you ask, and flatteryourself you have pinned her. Not a bit. 'That was the last pair. Ichanged them, because they hurt me. ' Driven out of that by proofs ofrecent laceration, they say, 'If I leave them off I should catch mydeath of cold, ' which is equivalent to saying there is no flannel in theshops, no common sense nor needles at home. "

He then laid before him some large French plates, showing the organsof the human trunk, and bade him observe in how small a space, and withwhat skill, the Creator has packed so many large yet delicate organs, so that they should be free and secure from friction, though so close toeach other. He showed him the liver, an organ weighing four pounds, andof large circumference; the lungs, a very large organ, suspended in thechest and impatient of pressure; the heart, the stomach, the spleen, allof them too closely and artfully packed to bear any further compression. 

Having thus taken him by the eye, he took him by the mind. 

"Is it a small thing for the creature to say to her Creator, 'I can packall this egg-china better than you can, ' and thereupon to jam allthose vital organs close, by a powerful, a very powerful and ingeniousmachine? Is it a small thing for that sex, which, for good reasons, theOmniscient has made larger in the waist than the male, to say to herCreator, 'You don't know your business; women ought to be smaller in thewaist than men, and shall be throughout the civilized world'?"

In short, he delivered so many true and pointed things on this tritesubject, that the old gentleman was convinced, and begged him to comeover that very evening and convince Rosa. 

Dr. Staines shook his head dolefully, and all his fire died out of himat having to face the fair. "Reason will be wasted. Authority is theonly weapon. My profession and my reading have both taught me thatthe whole character of her sex undergoes a change the moment a maninterferes with their dress. From Chaucer's day to our own, neitherpublic satire nor private remonstrance has ever shaken any of theirmonstrous fashions. Easy, obliging, pliable, and weaker of will than menin other things, do but touch their dress, however objectionable, androck is not harder, iron is not more stubborn, than these soft andyielding creatures. It is no earthly use my coming--I'll come. "

He came that very evening, and saw directly she was worse. "Of course, "said he, sadly, "you have not taken my advice. "

Rosa replied with a toss and an evasion, "I was not worth aprescription!"

"A physician can prescribe without sending his patient to the druggist;and when he does, then it is his words are gold. "

Rosa shook her head with an air of lofty incredulity. 

He looked ruefully at Mr. Lusignan and was silent. Rosa smiledsarcastically; she thought he was at his wit's end. 

Not quite: he was cudgelling his brains in search of some horriblyunscientific argument, that might prevail; for he felt science wouldfall dead upon so fair an antagonist. At last his eye kindled; he hadhit on an argument unscientific enough for anybody, he thought. Said he, ingratiatingly, "You believe the Old Testament?"

"Of course I do, every syllable. "

"And the lessons it teaches?"

"Certainly!"

"Then let me tell you a story from that book. A Syrian general had aterrible disease. He consulted Elisha by deputy. Elisha said, 'Batheseven times in a certain river, Jordan, and you will get well. ' Thegeneral did not like this at all; he wanted a prescription; wanted togo to the druggist; didn't believe in hydropathy to begin, and, in anycase, turned up his nose at Jordan. What! bathe in an Israelitishbrook, when his own country boasted noble rivers, with a reputation forsanctity into the bargain? In short, he preferred his leprosy to suchirregular medicine. But it happened, by some immense fortuity, thatone of his servants, though an Oriental, was a friend, instead of aflatterer; and this sensible fellow said, 'If the prophet told you to dosome great and difficult thing, to get rid of this fearful malady, wouldnot you do it, however distasteful? and can you hesitate when he merelysays, Wash in the Jordan, and be healed?' The general listened togood sense, and cured himself. Your case is parallel. You would takequantities of foul medicine; you would submit to some painful operation, if life and health depended on it; then why not do a small thing fora great result? You have only to take off an unnatural machine whichcripples your growing frame, and was unknown to every one of thewomen whose forms in Parian marble the world admires. Off with thatmonstrosity, and your cure is as certain as the Syrian general's; thoughscience, and not inspiration, dictates the easy remedy. "

Rosa had listened impatiently, and now replied with some warmth, "Thisis shockingly profane. The idea of comparing yourself to Elisha, and meto a horrid leper! Much obliged! Not that I know what a leper is. "

"Come, come! that is not fair, " said Mr. Lusignan. "He only compared thesituation, not the people. "

"But, papa, the Bible is not to be dragged into the common affairs oflife. "

"Then what on earth is the use of it?"

"Oh, papa! Well, it is not Sunday, but I have had a sermon. This is theclergyman, and you are the commentator--he! he! And so now let us goback from divinity to medicine. I repeat" (this was the first time shehad said it) "that my other doctors give me real prescriptions, writtenin hieroglyphics. You can't look at them without feeling there MUST besomething in them. "

An angry spot rose on Christopher's cheek, but he only said, "And areyour other doctors satisfied with the progress your disorder is makingunder their superintendence?"

"Perfectly! Papa, tell him what they say, and I'll find him theirprescriptions. " She went to a drawer, and rummaged, affecting not tolisten. 

Lusignan complied. "First of all, sir, I must tell you they areconfident it is not the lungs, but the liver. "

"The what!" shouted Christopher. 

"Ah!" screamed Rosa. "Oh, don't!--bawling!"

"And don't you screech, " said her father, with a look of misery andapprehension impartially distributed on the resounding pair. 

"You must have misunderstood them, " murmured Staines, in a voice thatwas now barely audible a yard off. "The hemorrhage of a bright redcolor, and expelled without effort or nausea?"

"From the liver--they have assured me again and again, " said Lusignan. 

Christopher's face still wore a look of blank amazement, till Rosaherself confirmed it positively. 

Then he cast a look of agony upon her, and started up in a passion, forgetting once more that his host abhorred the sonorous. "Oh, shame!shame!" he cried, "that the noble profession of medicine should bedisgraced by ignorance such as this. " Then he said, sternly, "Sir, donot mistake my motives; but I decline to have anything further to dowith this case, until those two gentlemen have been relieved of it; and, as this is very harsh, and on my part unprecedented, I will give youone reason out of many I COULD give you. Sir, there is no road from theliver to the throat by which blood can travel in this way, defyingthe laws of gravity; and they knew, from the patient, that no strongexpellent force has ever been in operation. Their diagnosis, therefore, implies agnosis, or ignorance too great to be forgiven. I will not sharemy patient with two gentlemen who know so little of medicine, and knownothing of anatomy, which is the A B C of medicine. Can I see theirprescriptions?"

These were handed to him. "Good heavens!" said he, "have you taken allthese?"

"Most of them. "

"Why, then you have drunk about two gallons of unwholesome liquids, and eaten a pound or two of unwholesome solids. These medicines haveco-operated with the malady. The disorder lies, not in the hemorrhage, but in the precedent extravasation that is a drain on the system; andhow is the loss to be supplied? Why, by taking a little more nourishmentthan before; there is no other way; and probably Nature, left toherself, might have increased your appetite to meet the occasion. Butthose two worthies have struck that weapon out of Nature's hand; theyhave peppered away at the poor ill-used stomach with drugs and draughts, not very deleterious I grant you, but all more or less indigestible, andall tending, not to whet the appetite, but to clog the stomach, or turnthe stomach, or pester the stomach, and so impair the appetite, and soco-operate, indirectly, with the malady. "

"This is good sense, " said Lusignan. "I declare, I--I wish I knew how toget rid of them. "

"Oh, I'll do that, papa. "

"No, no; it is not worth a rumpus. "

"I'll do it too politely for that. Christopher, you are veryclever--TERRIBLY clever. Whenever I threw their medicines away, I wasalways a little better that day. I will sacrifice them to you. It ISa sacrifice. They are both so kind and chatty, and don't grudge mehieroglyphics; now you do. "

She sat down and wrote two sweet letters to Dr. Snell and Mr. Wyman, thanking them for the great attention they had paid her; but findingherself getting steadily worse, in spite of all they had done for her, she proposed to discontinue her medicines for a time, and try change ofair. 

"And suppose they call to see whether you are changing the air?"

"In that case, papa--'not at home. '"

The notes were addressed and despatched. 

Then Dr. Staines brightened up, and said to Lusignan, "I am now happy totell you that I have overrated the malady. The sad change I see in MissLusignan is partly due to the great bulk of unwholesome esculentsshe has been eating and drinking under the head of medicines. Thesediscontinued, she might linger on for years, existing, though notliving--the tight-laced cannot be said to live. But if she would behealthy and happy, let her throw that diabolical machine into thefire. It is no use asking her to loosen it; she can't. Once there, thetemptation is too strong. Off with it, and, take my word, you will beone of the healthiest and most vigorous young ladies in Europe. "

Rosa looked rueful, and almost sullen. She said she had parted with herdoctors for him, but she really could not go about without stays. "Theyare as loose as they can be. See!"

"That part of the programme is disposed of, " said Christopher. "Pleasego on to No. 2. How about the raw red line where the loose machine hassawed you?"

"What red line? No such thing! Somebody or other has been peeping in atmy window. I'll have the ivy cut down to-morrow. "

"Simpleton!" said Mr. Lusignan, angrily. "You have let the cat out ofthe bag. There is such a mark, then, and this extraordinary young manhas discerned it with the eye of science. "

"He never discerned it at all, " said Rosa, red as fire; "and, what ismore, he never will. "

"I don't want to. I should be very sorry to. I hope it will be gone in aweek. "

"I wish YOU were gone now--exposing me in this cruel way, " said Rosa, angry with herself for having said an idiotic thing, and furious withhim for having made her say it. 

"Oh, Rosa!" said Christopher, in a voice of tenderest reproach. 

But Mr. Lusignan interfered promptly. "Rosa, no noise. I will not haveyou snapping at your best friend and mine. If you are excited, you hadbetter retire to your own room and compose yourself. I hate a clamor. "

Rosa made a wry face at this rebuke, and then began to cry quietly. 

Every tear was like a drop of blood from Christopher's heart. "Praydon't scold her, sir, " said he, ready to snivel himself. "She meantnothing unkind: it is only her pretty sprightly way; and she did notreally imagine a love so reverent as mine"--

"Don't YOU interfere between my father and me, " said this reasonableyoung lady, now in an ungovernable state of feminine irritability. 

"No, Rosa, " said Christopher, humbly. "Mr. Lusignan, " said he, "I hopeyou will tell her that, from the very first, I was unwilling to enter onthis subject with HER. Neither she nor I can forget my double character. I have not said half as much to her as I ought, being her physician; andyet you see I have said more than she can bear from me, who, she knows, love her and revere her. Then, once for all, do pray let me put thisdelicate matter into your hands: it is a case for parental authority. "

"Unfatherly tyranny, that means, " said Rosa. "What business havegentlemen interfering in such things? It is unheard of. I will notsubmit to it, even from papa. "

"Well, you need not scream at me, " said Mr. Lusignan; and he shruggedhis shoulders to Staines. "She is impracticable, you see. If I do myduty, there will be a disturbance. "

Now this roused the bile of Dr. Staines. "What, sir!" said he, "youcould separate her and me by your authority, here in this very room; andyet, when her life is at stake, you abdicate! You could part her from aman who loved her with every drop of his heart, --and she said she lovedhim, or, at all events, preferred him to others, --and you cannot parther from a miserable corset, although you see in her poor wasted facethat it is carrying her to the churchyard. In that case, sir, there isbut one thing for you to do, --withdraw your opposition and let memarry her. As her lover I am powerless; but invest me with a husband'sauthority, and you will soon see the roses return to her cheek, andher elastic figure expanding, and her eye beaming with health and thehappiness that comes of perfect health. "

Mr. Lusignan made an answer neither of his hearers expected. He said, "I have a great mind to take you at your word. I am too old and fond ofquiet to drive a Simpleton in single harness. "

This contemptuous speech, and, above all, the word Simpleton, which hadbeen applied to her pretty freely by young ladies at school, and alwaysgalled her terribly, inflicted so intolerable a wound on Rosa's vanity, that she was ready to burst: on that, of course, her stays contributedtheir mite of physical uneasiness. Thus irritated mind and body, sheburned to strike in return; and as she could not slap her father in thepresence of another, she gave it Christopher back-handed. 

"You can turn me out of doors, " said she, "if you are tired of yourdaughter, but I am not such a SIMPLETON as to marry a tyrant. No; he hasshown the cloven foot in time. A husband's AUTHORITY, indeed!" Then sheturned her hand, and gave it him direct. "You told me a differentstory when you were paying your court to me; then you were to be myservant, --all hypocritical sweetness. You had better go and marry aCircassian slave. They don't wear stays, and they do wear trousers; soshe will be unfeminine enough, even for you. No English lady wouldlet her husband dictate to her about such a thing. I can have as manyhusbands as I like, without falling into the clutches of a tyrant. Youare a rude, indelicate--And so please understand it is all over betweenyou and me. "

Both her auditors stood aghast, for she uttered this conclusion with adignity of which the opening gave no promise, and the occasion, weighedin masculine balances, was not worthy. 

"You do not mean that. You cannot mean it, " said Dr. Staines, aghast. 

"I do mean it, " said she, firmly; "and, if you are a gentleman, you willnot compel me to say it twice--three times, I mean. "

At this dagger-stroke Christopher turned very pale, but he maintainedhis dignity. "I am a gentleman, " said he, quietly, "and a veryunfortunate one. Good-by, sir; thank you kindly. Good-by, Rosa; Godbless you! Oh, pray take a thought! Remember, your life and death are inyour own hand now. I am powerless. "

And he left the house in sorrow, and just, but not pettish, indignation. 

When he was gone, father and daughter looked at each other, and therewas the silence that succeeds a storm. 

Rosa, feeling the most uneasy, was the first to express hersatisfaction. "There, HE is gone, and I am glad of it. Now you and Ishall never quarrel again. I was quite right. Such impertinence! Suchindelicacy! A fine prospect for me if I had married such a man! However, he is gone, and so there's an end of it. The idea! telling a young lady, before her father, she is tight-laced! If you had not been there I couldhave forgiven him. But I am not; it is a story. Now, " suddenly exaltingher voice, "I know you believe him. "

"I say nothing, " whispered papa, hoping to still her by example. Thisruse did not succeed. 

"But you look volumes, " cried she: "and I can't bear it. I won't bearit. If you don't believe ME, ask my MAID. " And with this felicitousspeech, she rang the bell. 

"You'll break the wire if you don't mind, " suggested her father, piteously. 

"All the better! Why should not wires be broken as well as my heart? Oh, here she is! Now, Harriet, come here. "

"Yes, miss. "

"And tell the truth. AM I tight-laced?"

Harriet looked in her face a moment to see what was required of her, andthen said, "That you are not, miss. I never dressed a young lady as wore'em easier than you do. "

"There, papa! That will do, Harriet. "

Harriet retired as far as the keyhole; she saw something was up. 

"Now, " said Rosa, "you see I was right; and, after all, it was a matchyou did not approve. Well, it is all over, and now you may write to yourfavorite, Colonel Bright. If he comes here, I'll box his old ears. Ihate him. I hate them all. Forgive your wayward girl. I'll stay withyou all my days. I dare say that will not be long, now I have quarrelledwith my guardian angel; and all for what? Papa! papa! how CAN you sitthere and not speak me one word of comfort? 'SIMPLETON?' Ah! that I amto throw away a love a queen is scarcely worthy of; and all for what?Really, if it wasn't for the ingratitude and wickedness of the thing, itis too laughable. Ha! ha!--oh! oh! oh!--ha! ha! ha!"

And off she went into hysterics, and began to gulp and chokefrightfully. 

Her father cried for help in dismay. In ran Harriet, saw, and screamed, but did not lose her head; this veracious person whipped a pair ofscissors off the table, and cut the young lady's stay-laces directly. Then there was a burst of imprisoned beauty; a deep, deep sigh of reliefcame from a bosom that would have done honor to Diana; and the scenesoon concluded with fits of harmless weeping, renewed at intervals. 

When it had settled down to this, her father, to soothe her, said hewould write to Dr. Staines, and bring about a reconciliation, if sheliked. 

"No, " said she, "you shall kill me sooner. I should die of shame. "

She added, "Oh, pray, from this hour, never mention his name to me. "

And then she had another cry. 

Mr. Lusignan was a sensible man: he dropped the subject for the present;but he made up his mind to one thing--that he would never part with Dr. Staines as a physician. 

Next day Rosa kept her own room until dinner-time, and was as unhappyas she deserved to be. She spent her time in sewing on stiff flannellinings and crying. She half hoped Christopher would write to her, sothat she might write back that she forgave him. But not a line. 

At half-past six her volatile mind took a turn, real or affected. Shewould cry no more for an ungrateful fellow, --ungrateful for not seeingthrough the stone walls how she had been employed all the morning; andmaking it up. So she bathed her red eyes, made a great alteration in herdress, and came dancing into the room humming an Italian ditty. 

As they were sitting together in the dining-room after dinner, twoletters came by the same post to Mr. Lusignan from Mr. Wyman and Dr. Snell. 

Mr. Wyman's letter:--

DEAR SIR, --I am sorry to hear from Miss Lusignan that she intends todiscontinue medical advice. The disorder was progressing favorably, andnothing to be feared, under proper treatment. 

Yours, etc. 

Dr. Snell's letter:--

DEAR SIR, --Miss Lusignan has written to me somewhat impatiently andseems disposed to dispense with my visits. I do not, however, think itright to withdraw without telling you candidly that this is an unwisestep. Your daughter's health is in a very precarious condition. 

Yours, etc. 

Rosa burst out laughing. "I have nothing to fear, and I'm on the brinkof the grave. That comes of writing without a consultation. If theyhad written at one table, I should have been neither well nor ill. PoorChristopher!" and her sweet face began to work piteously. 

"There! there! drink a glass of wine. "

She did, and a tear with it, that ran into the glass like lightning. 

Warned by this that grief sat very near the bright, hilarious surface, Mr. Lusignan avoided all emotional subjects for the present. Next day, however, he told her she might dismiss her lover, but no power shouldmake him dismiss his pet physician, unless her health improved. 

"I will not give you that excuse for inflicting him on me again, " saidthe young hypocrite. 

She kept her word. She got better and better, stronger, brighter, gayer. 

She took to walking every day, and increasing the distance, till shecould walk ten miles without fatigue. 

Her favorite walk was to a certain cliff that commanded a noble view ofthe sea. To get to it she must pass through the town of Gravesend; andwe may be sure she did not pass so often through that city without someidea of meeting the lover she had used so ill, and eliciting an APOLOGYfrom him. Sly puss!

When she had walked twenty times, or thereabouts, through the town, andnever seen him, she began to fear she had offended him past hope. Thenshe used to cry at the end of every walk. 

But by and by bodily health, vanity, and temper combined to rouse thedefiant spirit. Said she, "If he really loved me, he would not take myword in such a hurry. And besides, why does he not watch me, and findout what I am doing, and where I walk?"

At last she really began to persuade herself that she was an ill-usedand slighted girl. She was very angry at times, and disconsolate atothers; a mixed state in which hasty and impulsive young ladies commitlifelong follies. 

Mr. Lusignan observed the surface only: he saw his invalid daughtergetting better every day, till at last she became a picture of healthand bodily vigor. Relieved of his fears, he troubled his head but littleabout Christopher Staines. Yet he esteemed him, and had got to likehim; but Rosa was a beauty, and could do better than marry a strugglingphysician, however able. He launched out into a little gayety, resumedhis quiet dinner-parties; and, after some persuasion, took his nowblooming daughter to a ball given by the officers of Chatham. 

She was the belle of the ball beyond dispute, and danced with etherealgrace and athletic endurance. She was madly fond of waltzing, and hereshe encountered what she was pleased to call a divine dancer. It wasa Mr. Reginald Falcon, a gentleman who had retired to the seaside torecruit his health and finances sore tried by London and Paris. Falconhad run through his fortune, but had acquired, in the process, certaintalents which, as they cost the acquirer dear, so they sometimes repayhim, especially if he is not overburdened with principle, and adopts thenotion that, the world having plucked him, he has a right to pluck theworld. He could play billiards well, but never so well as when backinghimself for a heavy stake. He could shoot pigeons well, and his shootingimproved under that which makes some marksmen miss--a heavy bet againstthe gun. He danced to perfection; and being a well-bred, experienced, brazen, adroit fellow, who knew a little of everything that was going, he had always plenty to say. Above all, he had made a particular studyof the fair sex; had met with many successes, many rebuffs; and, atlast, by keen study of their minds, and a habit he had acquired ofwatching their faces, and shifting his helm accordingly, had learnedthe great art of pleasing them. They admired his face; to me, theshort space between his eyes and his hair, his aquiline nose, and thinstraight lips, suggested the bird of prey a little too much: but tofair doves, born to be clutched, this similitude perhaps was not veryalarming, even if they observed it. 

Rosa danced several times with him, and told him he danced like anangel. He informed her that was because, for once, he was dancing withan angel. She laughed and blushed. He flattered deliciously, and it costhim little; for he fell in love with her that night, deeper than he hadever been in his whole life of intrigue. He asked leave to call onher: she looked a little shy at that, and did not respond. He instantlywithdrew his proposal, with an apology and a sigh that raised her pity. However, she was not a forward girl, even when excited by dancing andcharmed with her partner; so she left him to find his own way out ofthat difficulty. 

He was not long about it. At the end of the next waltz he asked her ifhe might venture to solicit an introduction to her father. 

"Oh, certainly, " said she. "What a selfish girl I am! this is terriblydull for him. "

The introduction being made, and Rosa being engaged for the next threedances, Mr. Falcon sat by Mr. Lusignan and entertained him. For thislittle piece of apparent self-denial he was paid in various coin:Lusignan found out he was the son of an old acquaintance, and so thedoor of Kent Villa opened to him; meantime, Rosa Lusignan never passedhim, even in the arms of a cavalry officer, without bestowing a glanceof approval and gratitude on him. "What a good-hearted young man!"thought she. "How kind of him to amuse papa; and now I can stay so muchlonger. "

Falcon followed up the dance by a call, and was infinitely agreeable:followed up the call by another, and admired Rosa with so littledisguise that Mr. Lusignan said to her, "I think you have made aconquest. His father had considerable estates in Essex. I presume heinherits them. "

"Oh, never mind his estates, " said Rosa, "he dances like an angel, andgossips charmingly, and IS so nice. "

Christopher Staines pined for this girl in silence: his fine frame gotthinner, his pale cheek paler, as she got rosier and rosier; and how?Why, by following the very advice she had snubbed him for giving her. Atlast, he heard she had been the belle of a ball, and that she had beenseen walking miles from home, and blooming as a Hebe. Then his deepanxiety ceased, his pride stung him furiously; he began to think of hisown value, and to struggle with all his might against his deep love. Sometimes he would even inveigh against her, and call her a fickle, ungrateful girl, capable of no strong passion but vanity. Many a hardterm he applied to her in his sorrowful solitude; but not a word when hehad a hearer. He found it hard to rest: he kept dashing up to London andback. He plunged furiously into study. He groaned and sighed, and foughtthe hard and bitter fight that is too often the lot of the deep thatlove the shallow. Strong, but single-hearted, no other lady couldcomfort him. He turned from female company, and shunned all for thefault of one. 

The inward contest wore him. He began to look very thin and wan; and allfor a Simpleton!

Mr. Falcon prolonged his stay in the neighborhood, and drove a handsomedogcart over twice a week to visit Mr. Lusignan. 

He used to call on that gentleman at four o'clock, for at that hour Mr. Lusignan was always out, and his daughter always at home. 

She was at home at that hour because she took her long walks in themorning. While her new admirer was in bed, or dressing, or breakfasting, she was springing along the road with all the elasticity of youth, andhealth, and native vigor, braced by daily exercise. 

Twenty-one of these walks did she take, with no other result than healthand appetite; but the twenty-second was more fertile--extremely fertile. Starting later than usual, she passed through Gravesend while ReginaldFalcon was smoking at his front window. He saw her, and instantly doffedhis dressing-gown and donned his coat to follow her. He was madly inlove with her, and being a man who had learned to shoot pigeons andopportunities flying, he instantly resolved to join her in her walk, gether clear of the town, by the sea-beach, where beauty melts, and proposeto her. Yes, marriage had not been hitherto his habit, but this girl waspeerless: he was pledged by honor and gratitude to Phoebe Dale; but hangall that now. "No man should marry one woman when he loves another; itis dishonorable. " He got into the street and followed her as fast as hecould without running. 

It was not so easy to catch her. Ladies are not built for running; buta fine, tall, symmetrical girl who has practised walking fast can coverthe ground wonderfully in walking--if she chooses. It was a sight to seehow Rosa Lusignan squared her shoulders and stepped out from thewaist like a Canadian girl skating, while her elastic foot slapped thepavement as she spanked along. 

She had nearly cleared the town before Falcon came up with her. 

He was hardly ten yards from her when an unexpected incident occurred. She whisked round the corner of Bird Street, and ran plump againstChristopher Staines; in fact, she darted into his arms, and her facealmost touched the breast she had wounded so deeply. 

CHAPTER IV. 

Rosa cried "Oh!" and put up her hands to her face in lovely confusion, coloring like a peony. 

"I beg your pardon, " said Christopher, stiffly, but in a voice thattrembled. 

"No, " said Rosa, "it was I ran against you. I walk so fast now. Hope Idid not hurt you. "

"Hurt me?"

"Well, then, frighten you?"

No answer. 

"Oh, please don't quarrel with me in the STREET, " said Rosa, cunninglyimplying that he was the quarrelsome one. "I am going on the beach. Good-by!" This adieu she uttered softly, and in a hesitating tone thatbelied it. She started off, however, but much more slowly than she wasgoing before; and, as she went, she turned her head with infinite grace, and kept looking askant down at the pavement two yards behind her:moreover she went close to the wall, and left room at her side foranother to walk. 

Christopher hesitated a moment; but the mute invitation, so arch yettimid, so pretty, tender, sly, and womanly, was too much for him, as ithas generally proved for males, and the philosopher's foot was soonin the very place to which the Simpleton with the mere tail of her eyedirected it. 

They walked along, side by side, in silence, Staines agitated, gloomy, confused, Rosa radiant and glowing, yet not knowing what to say forherself, and wanting Christopher to begin. So they walked along withouta word. 

Falcon followed them at some distance to see whether it was an admireror only an acquaintance. A lover he never dreamed of; she had shown suchevident pleasure in his company, and had received his visits alone soconstantly. 

However, when the pair had got to the beach, and were walking slower andslower, he felt a pang of rage and jealousy, turned on his heel with anaudible curse, and found Phoebe Dale a few yards behind him with a whiteface and a peculiar look. He knew what the look meant; he had brought itto that faithful face before to-day. 

"You are better, Miss Lusignan. "

"Better, Dr. Staines? I am health itself thanks to--hem!"

"Our estrangement has agreed with you?" This very bitterly. 

"You know very well it is not that. Oh, please don't make me cry in thestreets. "

This humble petition, or rather meek threat, led to another longsilence. It was continued till they had nearly reached the shore. But, meantime, Rosa's furtive eyes scanned Christopher's face, and herconscience smote her at the signs of suffering. She felt a desire tobeg his pardon with deep humility; but she suppressed that weakness. Shehung her head with a pretty, sheepish air, and asked him if he could notthink of something agreeable to say to one after deserting one so long. 

"I am afraid not, " said Christopher, bluntly. "I have an awkward habitof speaking the truth; and some people can't bear that, not even when itis spoken for their good. "

"That depends on temper, and nerves, and things, " said Rosa, deprecatingly; then softly, "I could bear anything from you now. "

"Indeed!" said Christopher, grimly. "Well, then, I hear you had nosooner got rid of your old lover, for loving you too well and tellingyou the truth, than you took up another, --some flimsy man of fashion, who will tell you any lie you like. "

"It is a story, a wicked story, " cried Rosa, thoroughly alarmed. "Me, alover! He dances like an angel; I can't help that. "

"Are his visits at your house like angels'--few and far between?" Andthe true lover's brow lowered black upon her for the first time. 

Rosa changed color, and her eyes fell a moment. "Ask papa, " she said. "His father was an old friend of papa's. "

"Rosa, you are prevaricating. Young men do not call on old gentlemenwhen there is an attractive young lady in the house. "

The argument was getting too close; so Rosa operated a diversion. "So, "said she, with a sudden air of lofty disdain, swiftly and adroitlyassumed, "you have had me watched?"

"Not I; I only hear what people say. "

"Listen to gossip and not have me watched! That shows how little youreally cared for me. Well, if you had, you would have made a littlediscovery, that is all. "

"Should I?" said Christopher, puzzled. "What?"

"I shall not tell you. Think what you please. Yes, sir, you would havefound out that I take long walks every day, all alone; and what ismore, that I walk through Gravesend, hoping--like a goose--that somebodyreally loved me, and would meet me, and beg my pardon; and if he had, Ishould have told him it was only my tongue, and my nerves, and things;my heart was his, and my gratitude. And after all, what do wordssignify, when I am a good, obedient girl at bottom? So that is whatyou have lost by not condescending to look after me. Finelove!--Christopher, beg my pardon. "

"May I inquire for what?"

"Why, for not understanding me; for not knowing that I should be sorrythe moment you were gone. I took them off the very next day, to pleaseyou. "

"Took off whom?--Oh, I understand. You did? Then you ARE a good girl. "

"Didn't I tell you I was? A good, obedient girl, and anything but aflirt. "

"I don't say that. "

"But I do. Don't interrupt. It is to your good advice I owe my health;and to love anybody but you, when I owe you my love and my life, I mustbe a heartless, ungrateful, worthless--Oh, Christopher, forgive me! No, no; I mean, beg my pardon. "

"I'll do both, " said Christopher, taking her in his arms. "I beg yourpardon, and I forgive you. "

Rosa leaned her head tenderly on his shoulder, and began to sigh. "Oh, dear, dear! I am a wicked, foolish girl, not fit to walk alone. "

On this admission, Christopher spoke out, and urged her to put an end toall these unhappy misunderstandings, and to his new torment, jealousy, by marrying him. 

"And so I would this very minute, if papa would consent. But, " said she, slyly, "you never can be so foolish to wish it. What! a wise man likeyou marry a simpleton!"

"Did I ever call you that?" asked Christopher, reproachfully. 

"No, dear; but you are the only one who has not; and perhaps I shouldlose even the one, if you were to marry me. Oh, husbands are not sopolite as lovers! I have observed that, simpleton or not. "

Christopher assured her that he took quite a different view of hercharacter; he believed her to be too profound for shallow people to readall in a moment: he even intimated that he himself had experienced nolittle difficulty in understanding her at odd times. "And so, " said he, "they turn round upon you, and instead of saying, 'We are too shallow tofathom you, ' they pretend you are a simpleton. "

This solution of the mystery had never occurred to Rosa, nor indeedwas it likely to occur to any creature less ingenious than a lover: itpleased her hugely; her fine eyes sparkled, and she nestled closer stillto the strong arm that was to parry every ill, from mortal disease togalling epithets. 

She listened with a willing ear to all his reasons, his hopes, hisfears, and, when they reached her father's door, it was settled thathe should dine there that day, and urge his suit to her father afterdinner. She would implore the old gentleman to listen to it favorably. 

The lovers parted, and Christopher went home like one who has awakenedfrom a hideous dream to daylight and happiness. 

He had not gone far before he met a dashing dogcart, driven by anexquisite. He turned to look after it, and saw it drive up to KentVilla. 

In a moment he divined his rival, and a sickness of heart came over him. But he recovered himself directly, and said, "If that is the fellow, shewill not receive him now. "

She did receive him though: at all events, the dogcart stood at thedoor, and its master remained inside. 

Christopher stood, and counted the minutes: five, ten, fifteen, twentyminutes, and still the dogcart stood there. 

It was more than he could bear. He turned savagely, and strode back toGravesend, resolving that all this torture should end that night, oneway or other. 

Phoebe Dale was the daughter of a farmer in Essex, and one of thehappiest young women in England till she knew Reginald Falcon, Esq. 

She was reared on wholesome food, in wholesome air, and used to churnbutter, make bread, cook a bit now and then, cut out and sew all herown dresses, get up her own linen, make hay, ride anything on four legs;and, for all that, was a great reader, and taught in the Sunday schoolto oblige the vicar; wrote a neat hand, and was a good arithmetician, kept all the house accounts and farm accounts. She was a musician, too, --not profound, but very correct. She would take her turn at theharmonium in church, and, when she was there, you never heard a wrongnote in the bass, nor an inappropriate flourish, nor bad time. She couldsing, too, but never would, except her part in a psalm. Her voice wasa deep contralto, and she chose to be ashamed of this heavenly organ, because a pack of envious girls had giggled, and said it was like aman's. 

In short, her natural ability and the range and variety of her usefulaccomplishments were considerable; not that she was a prodigy; but shebelonged to a small class of women in this island who are not too highto use their arms, nor too low to cultivate their minds; and, having afaculty and a habit deplorably rare amongst her sex, viz. , Attention, she had profited by her miscellaneous advantages. 

Her figure and face both told her breed at once: here was an old Englishpastoral beauty; not the round-backed, narrow-chested cottager, but thewell-fed, erect rustic, with broad, full bust and massive shoulder, andarm as hard as a rock with health and constant use; a hand finely cut, though neither small nor very white, and just a little hard inside, compared with Luxury's soft palm; a face honest, fair, and rather largethan small; not beautiful, but exceedingly comely; a complexion not pinkand white, but that delicately blended brickdusty color, which tints thewhole cheek in fine gradation, outlasts other complexions twenty years, and beautifies the true Northern, even in old age. Gray, limpid, honest, point-blank, searching eyes; hair true nut-brown, without a shade of redor black; and a high, smooth forehead, full of sense. Across it ranone deep wrinkle that did not belong to her youth. That wrinkle was thebrand of trouble, the line of agony. It had come of loving above her, yet below her, and of loving an egotist. 

Three years before our tale commenced, a gentleman's horse ran away withhim, and threw him on a heap of stones by the roadside, not very farfrom Farmer Dale's gate. The farmer had him taken in. The doctor said hemust not be moved. He was insensible; his cheek like delicate wax; hisfair hair like silk stained with blood. He became Phoebe's patient, and, in due course, her convalescent: his pale, handsome face and fascinatingmanners gained one charm more from weakness; his vices were in abeyance. 

The womanly nurse's heart yearned over her child; for he was feeble asa child; and, when he got well enough to amuse his weary hours by makinglove to her, and telling her a pack of arrant lies, she was a readydupe. He was to marry her as soon as ever his old uncle died, and lefthim the means, etc. , etc. At last he got well enough to leave her, andwent away, her open admirer and secret lover. He borrowed twenty poundsof her the day he left. 

He used to write her charming letters, and feed the flame; but one dayher father sent her up to London, on his own business, all of a sudden, and she called on Mr. Falcon at his real address. She found he did notlive there--only received letters. However, half-a-crown soon bought hisreal address, and thither Phoebe proceeded with a troubled heart, forshe suspected that her true lover was in debt or trouble, and obliged tohide. Well, he must be got out of it, and hide at the farm meantime. 

So the loving girl knocked at the door, asked for Mr. Falcon, and wasshown in to a lady rather showily dressed, who asked her business. 

Phoebe Dale stared at her, and then turned pale as ashes. She wasparalyzed, and could not find her tongue. 

"Why, what is the matter now?" said the other, sharply. 

"Are you married to Reginald Falcon?"

"Of course I am. Look at my wedding-ring. "

"Then I am not wanted here, " faltered Phoebe, ready to sink on thefloor. 

"Certainly not, if you are one of the bygones, " said the woman, coarsely; and Phoebe Dale waited to hear no more, but found her way, Heaven knows how, into the street, and there leaned, half-fainting, ona rail, till a policeman came, and told her she had been drinking, andsuggested a cool cell as the best cure. 

"Not drink; only a breaking heart, " said she, in her low, mellow voicethat few could resist. 

He got her a glass of water, drove away the boys that congregateddirectly, and she left the street. But she soon came back again, andwaited about for Reginald Falcon. 

It was night when he appeared. She seized him by the breast, and taxedhim with his villany. 

What with her iron grasp, pale face, and flashing eyes, he lost hiscool impudence, and blurted out excuses. It was an old and unfortunateconnection; he would give the world to dissolve it, if he could do itlike a gentleman. 

Phoebe told him to please himself: he must part with one or the other. 

"Don't talk nonsense, " said this man of brass; "I'll un-Falcon her onthe spot. "

"Very well, " said Phoebe. "I am going home; and, if you are not there byto-morrow at noon"--She said no more, but looked a great deal. Then shedeparted, and refused him her hand at parting. "We will see about thatby and by, " said she. 

At noon my lord came down to the farm, and, unfortunately for Phoebe, played the penitent so skilfully for about a month, that she forgavehim, and loved him all the more for having so nearly parted with him. 

Her peace was not to endure long. He was detected in an intrigue in thevery village. 

The insult struck so home that Phoebe herself, to her parents'satisfaction, ordered him out of the house at once. 

But, when he was gone, she had fits of weeping, and could settle tonothing for a long time. 

Months had elapsed, and she was getting a sort of dull tranquillity, when, one evening, taking a walk she had often with him, and mourningher solitude and wasted affection, he waylaid her, and clung toher knees, and shed crocodile tears on her hands, and, after a longresistance, violent at first, but fainter and fainter, got her in hispower again, and that so completely that she met him several times bynight, being ashamed to be seen with him in those parts by day. 

This ended in fresh promises of marriage, and in a constantcorrespondence by letter. This pest knew exactly how to talk to a woman, and how to write to one. His letters fed the unhappy flame; and, mindyou, he sometimes deceived himself, and thought he loved her; but itwas only himself he loved. She was an invaluable lover; a faithful, disinterested friend; hers was a vile bargain; his, an excellent one, and he clung to it. 

And so they went on. She detected him in another infidelity, andreproached him bitterly; but she had no longer the strength to breakwith him. Nevertheless, this time she had the sense to make a struggle. She implored him, on her very knees, to show her a little mercy inreturn for all her love. "For pity's sake, leave me!" she cried. "Youare strong, and I am weak. You can end it forever, and pray do. Youdon't want me; you don't value me: then, leave me, once and for all, andend this hell you keep me in. "

No; he could not, or he would not, leave her alone. Look at a bird'swings!--how like an angel's! Yet so vile a thing as a bit of birdlimesubdues them utterly; and such was the fascinating power of this meanman over this worthy woman. She was a reader, a thinker, a modelof respectability, industry, and sense; a businesswoman, keen andpractical; could encounter sharp hands in sharp trades; could buy orsell hogs, calves, or beasts with any farmer or butcher in the country, yet no match for a cunning fool. She had enshrined an idol in her heart, and that heart adored it, and clung to it, though the superior head sawthrough it, dreaded it, despised it. 

No wonder three years of this had drawn a tell-tale wrinkle across thepolished brow. 

Phoebe Dale had not received a letter for some days; that roused hersuspicion and stung her jealousy; she came up to London by fast train, and down to Gravesend directly. 

She had a thick veil that concealed her features; and with a littleinquiring and bribing, she soon found out that Mr. Falcon was there witha showy dogcart. "Ah!" thought Phoebe, "he has won a little money atplay or pigeon-shooting; so now he has no need of me. "

She took the lodgings opposite him, but observed nothing till this verymorning, when she saw him throw off his dressing-gown all in a hurry andfling on his coat. She tied on her bonnet as rapidly, and followed him, until she discovered the object of his pursuit. It was a surprise toher, and a puzzle, to see another man step in, as if to take herpart. But as Reginald still followed the loitering pair, she followedReginald, till he turned and found her at his heels, white and lowering. 

She confronted him in threatening silence for some time, during which heprepared his defence. 

"So it is a LADY this time, " said she, in her low, rich voice, sternly. 

"Is it?"

"Yes, and I should say she is bespoke--that tall, fine-built gentleman. But I suppose you care no more for his feelings than you do for mine. "

"Phoebe, " said the egotist, "I will not try to deceive you. You haveoften said you are my true friend. "

"And I think I have proved it. "

"That you have. Well, then, be my true friend now. I am in love--reallyin love--this time. You and I only torment each other; let us partfriends. There are plenty of farmers in Essex that would jump at you. Asfor me, I'll tell you the truth; I have run through every farthing;my estate mortgaged beyond its value--two or three writs out againstme--that is why I slipped down here. My only chance is to marry Money. Her father knows I have land, and he knows nothing about the mortgages;she is his only daughter. Don't stand in my way, that is a good girl; bemy friend, as you always were. Hang it all, Phoebe, can't you say a wordto a fellow that is driven into a corner, instead of glaring at me likethat? There! I know it is ungrateful; but what can a fellow do? I mustlive like a gentleman or else take a dose of prussic acid; you don'twant to drive me to that. Why, you proposed to part, last time, yourself. "

She gave him one majestic, indescribable look, that made even hiscallous heart quiver, and turned away. 

Then the scamp admired her for despising him, and could not bear to loseher. He followed her, and put forth all those powers of persuading andsoothing, which had so often proved irresistible. But this time it wasin vain. The insult was too savage, and his egotism too brutal, forhoneyed phrases to blind her. 

After enduring it a long time with a silent shudder, she turned andshook him fiercely off her like some poisonous reptile. 

"Do you want me to kill you? I'd liever kill myself for loving such athing as THOU. Go thy ways, man, and let me go mine. " In her passion shedropped her cultivation for once, and went back to the THOU and THEE ofher grandam. 

He colored up and looked spiteful enough; but he soon recovered hiscynical egotism, and went off whistling an operatic passage. 

She crept to her lodgings, and buried her face in her pillow, and rockedherself to and fro for hours in the bitterest agony the heart can feel, groaning over her great affection wasted, flung into the dirt. 

While she was thus, she heard a little commotion. She came to the windowand saw Falcon, exquisitely dressed, drive off in his dogcart, attendedby the acclamations of eight boys. She saw at a glance he was gonecourting; her knees gave way under her, and, such is the power of themind, this stalwart girl lay weak as water on the sofa, and had not thepower to go home, though just then she had but one wish, one hope--tosee her idol's face no more, nor hear his wheedling tongue, that hadruined her peace. 

The exquisite Mr. Falcon was received by Rosa Lusignan with a certaintremor that flattered his hopes. He told her, in charming language, howhe had admired her at first sight, then esteemed her, then loved her. 

She blushed and panted, and showed more than once a desire to interrupthim, but was too polite. She heard him out with rising dismay, and heoffered her his hand and heart. 

But by this time she had made up her mind what to say. "O Mr. Falcon!"she cried, "how can you speak to me in this way? Why, I am engaged. Didn't you know?"

"No; I am sure you are not, or you would never have given me theencouragement you have. "

"Oh, all engaged young ladies flirt--a little; and everybody here knowsI am engaged to Dr. Staines. "

"Why, I never saw him here. "

Rosa's tact was a quality that came and went; so she blushed, andfaltered out, "We had a little tiff, as lovers will. "

"And you did me the honor to select me as cat's-paw to bring him onagain. Was not that rather heartless?"

Rosa's fitful tact returned to her. 

"Oh, sir, do not think so ill of me. I am not heartless, I am onlyunwise; and you are so superior to the people about you; I could nothelp appreciating you, and I thought you knew I was engaged, and so Iwas less on my guard. I hope I shall not lose your esteem, though I haveno right to anything more. Ah! I see by your face I have behaved veryill: pray forgive me. "

And with this she turned on the waters of the Nile, better known to you, perhaps, as "crocodile tears. "

Falcon was a gentleman on the surface, and knew he should only makematters worse by quarrelling with her. So he ground his teeth, and said, "May your own heart never feel the pangs you have inflicted. I shalllove you and remember you till my dying day. "

He bowed ceremoniously and left her. 

"Ay, " said he to himself, "I WILL remember you, you heartless jilt, andthe man you have jilted me for. Staines is his d--d name, is it?"

He drove back crestfallen, bitter, and, for once in his life, heart-sick, and drew up at his lodgings. Here he found attendantswaiting to receive him. 

A sheriff's officer took his dogcart and horse under a judgment; thedisturbance this caused collected a tiny crowd, gaping and grinning, andbrought Phoebe's white face and eyes swollen with weeping to the window. 

Falcon saw her and brazened it out. "Take them, " said he, with an oath. "I'll have a better turn-out by to-morrow, breakfast-time. "

The crowd cheered him for his spirit. 

He got down, lit a cigar, chaffed the officer and the crowd, and was, onthe whole, admired. 

Then another officer, who had been hunting him in couples with theother, stepped forward and took HIM, for the balance of a judgment debt. 

Then the swell's cigar fell out of his mouth, and he was seriouslyalarmed. "Why, Cartwright, " said he, "this is too bad. You promised notto see me this month. You passed me full in the Strand. "

"You are mistaken, sir, " said Cartwright, with sullen irony. "I've got atwin-brother; a many takes him for me, till they finds the difference. "Then, lowering his voice, "What call had you to boast in your club youhad made it right with Bill Cartwright, and he'd never see you? That gotabout, and so I was bound to see you or lose my bread. There's one ortwo I don't see, but then they are real gentlemen, and thinks of me aswell as theirselves, and doesn't blab. "

"I must have been drunk, " said Falcon apologetically. "More likelyblowing a cloud. When you young gents gets a-smoking together, you'd tell on your own mothers. Come along, colonel, off we go toMerrimashee. "

"Why, it is only twenty-six pounds. I have paid the rest. "

"More than that; there's the costs. "

"Come in, and I'll settle it. "

"All right, sir. Jem, watch the back. "

"Oh, I shall not try that game with a sharp hand like you, Cartwright. "

"You had better not, sir, " said Cartwright; but he was softened a littleby the compliment. 

When they were alone, Falcon began by saying it was a bad job for him. 

"Why, I thought you was a-going to pay it all in a moment. "

"I can't; but I have got a friend over the way that could, if she chose. She has always got money, somehow. "

"Oh, if it is a she, it is all right. "

"I don't know. She has quarrelled with me; but give me a little time. Here! have a glass of sherry and a biscuit, while I try it on. "

Having thus muffled Cartwright, this man of the world opened his windowand looked out. The crowd had followed the captured dogcart, so he hadthe street to himself. He beckoned to Phoebe, and after considerablehesitation she opened her window. 

"Phoebe, " said he, in tones of tender regret, admirably natural andsweet, "I shall never offend you again; so forgive me this once. I havegiven that girl up. "

"Not you, " said Phoebe, sullenly. 

"Indeed I have. After our quarrel, I started to propose to her; but Ihad not the heart; I came back and left her. "

"Time will show. If it is not her, it will be some other, you false, heartless villain. "

"Come, I say, don't be so hard on me in trouble. I am going to prison. "

"So I suppose. "

"Ah! but it is worse than you think. I am only taken for a paltry thirtypounds or so. "

"Thirty-three, fifteen, five, " suggested Cartwright, in a muffledwhisper, his mouth being full of biscuit. 

"But once they get me to a sponging-house, detainers will pour in, andmy cruel creditors will confine me for life. "

"It is the best place for you. It will put a stop to your wickedness, and I shall be at peace. That's what I have never known, night or day, this three years. "

"But you will not be happy if you see me go to prison before your eyes. Were you ever inside a prison? Just think what it must be to be coopedup in those cold grim cells all alone; for they use a debtor like acriminal now. "

Phoebe shuddered; but she said, bravely, "Well, tell THEM you have beena-courting. There was a time I'd have died sooner than see a hair ofyour head hurt; but it is all over now; you have worn me out. "

Then she began to cry. 

Falcon heaved a deep sigh. "It is no more than I deserve, " said he. "I'll pack up my things, and go with the officer. Give me one kind wordat parting, and I'll think of it in my prison, night and day. "

He withdrew from the window with another deep sigh, told Cartwright, cheerfully, it was all right, and proceeded to pack up his traps. 

Meantime Phoebe sat at her window and cried bitterly. Her words had beenbraver than her heart. 

Falcon managed to pay the trifle he owed for the lodgings, and presentlyhe came out with Cartwright, and the attendant called a cab. His thingswere thrown in, and Cartwright invited him to follow. Then he looked up, and cast a genuine look of terror and misery at Phoebe. He thought shewould have relented before this. 

Her heart gave way; I am afraid it would, even without that piteous andmute appeal. She opened the window, and asked Mr. Cartwright if he wouldbe good enough to come and speak to her. 

Cartwright committed his prisoner to the subordinate, and knocked at thedoor of Phoebe's lodgings. She came down herself and let him in. She ledthe way upstairs, motioned him to a seat, sat down by him, and began tocry again. She was thoroughly unstrung. 

Cartwright was human, and muttered some words of regret that a poorfellow must do his duty. 

"Oh, it is not that, " sobbed Phoebe. "I can find the money. I have foundmore for him than that, many's the time. " Then, drying her eyes, "Butyou must know the world, and I dare say you can see how 'tis with me. "

"I can, " said Cartwright, gravely. "I overheard you and him; and, mygirl, if you take my advice, why, let him go. He is a gentleman skindeep, and dresses well, and can palaver a girl, no doubt; but blessyour heart, I can see at a glance he is not worth your little finger, an honest, decent young woman like you. Why, it is like butter fightingwith stone. Let him go; or I will tell you what it is, you will hang forhim some day, or else make away with yourself. "

"Ay, sir, " said Phoebe, "that's likelier; and if I was to let him go toprison, I should sit me down and think of his parting look, and I shouldfling myself into the water for him before I was a day older. "

"Ye mustn't do that anyway. While there's life there's hope. "

Upon this Phoebe put him a question, and found him ready to do anythingfor her, in reason--provided he was paid for it. And the end of it allwas, the prisoner was conveyed to London; Phoebe got the requisite sum;Falcon was deposited in a third-class carriage bound for Essex. Phoebepaid his debt, and gave Cartwright a present, and away rattled the trainconveying the handsome egotist into temporary retirement, to wit, ata village five miles from the Dales' farm. She was too ashamed of heryoung gentleman and herself to be seen with him in her native village. On the road down he was full of little practical attentions; shereceived them coldly; his mellifluous mouth was often at her car, pouring thanks and praises into it; she never vouchsafed a word ofreply. All she did was to shudder now and then, and cry at intervals. Yet, whenever he left her side, her whole body became restless; and whenhe came back to her, a furtive thrill announced the insane complacencyhis bare contact gave her. Surely, of all the forms in which lovetorments the heart, this was the most terrible and pitiable. 

Mr. Lusignan found his daughter in tears. 

"Why, what is the matter now?" said he, a little peevishly. "We have hadnothing of this sort of thing lately. "

"Papa, it is because I have misconducted myself. I am a foolish, imprudent girl. I have been flirting with Mr. Falcon, and he has taken aCRUEL advantage of it--proposed to me--this very afternoon--actually!"

"Has he? Well, he is a fine fellow, and has a landed estate in Norfolk. There's nothing like land. They may well call it real property--there issomething to show; you can walk on it, and ride on it, and look out ofwindow at it: that IS property. "

"Oh, papa! what are you saying? Would you have me marry one man when Ibelong to another?"

"But you don't belong to any one except to me. "

"Oh, yes; I do. I belong to my dear Christopher. "

"Why, you dismissed him before my very eyes; and very ill you behaved, begging your pardon. The man was your able physician and your bestfriend, and said nothing that was not for your good; and you treated himlike a dog. "

"Yes, but he has apologized. "

"What for? being treated like a dog?"

"Oh, don't say so, papa! At all events, he has apologized, as agentleman should whenever--whenever"--

"Whenever a lady is in the wrong. "

"Don't, papa; and I have asked him to dinner. "

"With all my heart. I shall be downright glad to see him again. You usedhim abominably. "

"But you need not keep saying so, " whined Rosa. "And that is not all, dear papa; the worst of it is, Mr. Falcon proposing to me has opened myeyes. I am not fit to be trusted alone. I am too fond of dancing, andflirting will follow somehow. Oh, think how ill I was a few months ago, and how unhappy you were about me! They were killing me. He came andsaved me. Yes, papa, I owe all this health and strength to Christopher. I did take them off, the very next day, and see the effect of it and mylong walks. I owe him my life, and what I value far more, my good looks. La! I wish I had not told you that. And after all this, don't I belongto my Christopher? How could I be happy or respect myself if I marriedany one else? And oh, papa! he looks wan and worn. He has been frettingfor his Simpleton. Oh, dear! I mustn't think of that--it makes me cry;and you don't like scenes, do you?"

"Hate 'em!"

"Well, then, " said Rosa, coaxingly, "I'll tell you how to end them. Marry your Simpleton to the only man who is fit to take care of her. Oh, papa! think of his deep, deep affection for me, and pray don't snubhim if--by any chance--after dinner--he should HAPPEN to askyou--something. "

"Oh, then it is possible that, by the merest chance, the gentleman youhave accidentally asked to dinner, may, by some strange fortuity, be surprised into asking me a second time for something very muchresembling my daughter's hand--eh?"

Rosa colored high. "He might, you know. How can I tell what gentlemenwill say when the ladies have retired and they are left alonewith--with"--

"With the bottle. Ay, that's true; when the wine is in, the wit is out. "

Said Rosa, "Well, if he should happen to be so foolish, pray think ofME; of all we owe him, and how much I love him, and ought to love him. "She then bestowed a propitiatory kiss, and ran off to dress for dinner;it was a much longer operation to-day than usual. 

Dr. Staines was punctual. Mr. Lusignan commented favorably on that. 

"He always is, " said Rosa, eagerly. 

They dined together. Mr. Lusignan chatted freely, but Staines and Rosawere under a feeling of restraint, Staines in particular; he could nothelp feeling that before long his fate must be settled. He would eitherobtain Rosa's hand, or have to resign her to some man of fortune whowould step in; for beauty such as hers could not long lack brilliantoffers. Longing, though dreading, to know his fate, he was glad whendinner ended. 

Rosa sat with them a little while after dinner, then rose, bestowedanother propitiatory kiss on her father's head, and retired with amodest blush, and a look at Christopher that was almost divine. 

It inspired him with the courage of lions, and he commenced the attackat once. 

CHAPTER V. 

"Mr. Lusignan, " said he, "the last time I was here you gave me somehopes that you might be prevailed on to trust that angel's health andhappiness to my care. "

"Well, Dr. Staines, I will not beat about the bush with you. My judgmentis still against this marriage; you need not look so alarmed; it doesnot follow I shall forbid it. I feel I have hardly a right to, for myRosa might be in her grave now but for you; and, another thing, when Iinterfered between you two I had no proof you were a man of ability; Ihad only your sweetheart's word for that; and I never knew a case beforewhere a young lady's swan did not turn out a goose. Your rare abilitygives you another chance in the professional battle that is before you;indeed, it puts a different face on the whole matter. I still think itpremature. Come now, would it not be much wiser to wait, and securea good practice before you marry a mere child? There! there! Ionly advise; I don't dictate; you shall settle it together, you twowiseacres. Only I must make one positive condition. I have nothing togive my child during my lifetime; but one thing I have done for her;years ago I insured my life for six thousand pounds; and you must do thesame. I will not have her thrown on the world a widow, with a child ortwo, perhaps, to support, and not a farthing; you know the insecurity ofmortal life. "

"I do! I do! Why, of course I will insure my life, and pay the annualpremium out of my little capital, until income flows in. "

"Will you hand me over a sum sufficient to pay that premium for fiveyears?"

"With pleasure. "

"Then I fear, " said the old gentleman, with a sigh, "my opposition tothe match must cease here. I still recommend you to wait; but--there! Imight just as well advise fire and tow to live neighbors and keep cool. "

To show the injustice of this simile, Christopher Staines started upwith his eyes all aglow, and cried out, rapturously, "Oh, sir, may Itell her?"

"Yes, you may tell her, " said Lusignan, with a smile. "Stop--what areyou going to tell her?"

"That you consent, sir. God bless you! God bless you! Oh!"

"Yes, but that I advise you to wait. "

"I'll tell her all, " said Staines, and rushed out even as he spoke, andupset a heavy chair with a loud thud. 

"Ah! ah!" cried the old gentleman in dismay, and put his fingers in hisears--too late. "I see, " said he, "there will be no peace and quietnow till they are out of the house. " He lighted a soothing cigar tocounteract the fracas. 

"Poor little Rosa! a child but yesterday, and now to encounter the caresof a wife, and perhaps a mother. Ah! she is but young, but young. "

The old gentleman prophesied truly; from that moment he had no peacetill he withdrew all semblance of dissent, and even of procrastination. 

Christopher insured his life for six thousand pounds, and assigned thepolicy to his wife. Four hundred pounds was handed to Mr. Lusignan topay the premiums until the genius of Dr. Staines should have secured himthat large professional income, which does not come all at once, even tothe rare physician, who is Capax, Efficax, Sagax. 

The wedding-day was named. The bridesmaids were selected, the guestsinvited. None refused but Uncle Philip. He declined, in his finebold hand, to countenance in person an act of folly he disapproved. Christopher put his letter away with a momentary sigh, and would notshow it Rosa. All other letters they read together, charming pastimeof that happy period. Presents poured in. Silver teapots, coffeepots, sugar-basins, cream-jugs, fruit-dishes, silver-gilt inkstands, albums, photograph-books, little candlesticks, choice little services of china, shell salt-cellars in a case lined with maroon velvet; a Bible, superbin binding and clasps, and everything but the text--that was illegible;a silk scarf from Benares; a gold chain from Delhi, six feet long ornearly; a Maltese necklace, a ditto in exquisite filagree from Genoa;English brooches, a trifle too big and brainless; apostle spoons; atreble-lined parasol with ivory stick and handle; an ivory card-case, richly carved; workbox of sandal-wood and ivory, etc. Mr. Lusignan'sCity friends, as usual with these gentlemen, sent the most valuablethings. Every day one or two packages were delivered, and, in openingthem, Rosa invariably uttered a peculiar scream of delight, and herfather put his fingers in his ears; yet there was music in this veryscream, if he would only have listened to it candidly, instead of fixinghis mind on his vague theory of screams--so formed was she to please theear as well as the eye. 

At last came a parcel she opened and stared at, smiling and coloringlike a rose, but did not scream, being too dumfounded and perplexed;for lo! a teapot of some base material, but simple and elegant in form, being an exact reproduction of a melon; and inside this teapot a canvasbag containing ten guineas in silver, and a wash-leather bag containingtwenty guineas in gold, and a slip of paper, which Rosa, being now halfrecovered from her stupefaction, read out to her father and Dr. Staines:

"People that buy presents blindfold give duplicates and triplicates;and men seldom choose to a woman's taste; so be pleased to accept theenclosed tea-leaves, and buy for yourself. The teapot you can put on thehob, for it is nickel. "

Rosa looked sore puzzled again. "Papa, " said she, timidly, "have we anyfriend that is--a little--deranged?"

"A lot. "

"Oh, then, that accounts. "

"Why no, love, " said Christopher. "I have heard of much learning makinga man mad, but never of much good sense. "

"What! Do you call this sensible?"

"Don't you?"

"I'll read it again, " said Rosa. "Well--yes--I declare--it is not so madas I thought; but it is very eccentric. "

Lusignan suggested there was nothing so eccentric as common sense, especially in time of wedding. "This, " said he, "comes from the City. Itis a friend of mine, some old fox; he is throwing dust in your eyes withhis reasons; his real reason was that his time is money; it would havecost the old rogue a hundred pounds' worth of time--you know the City, Christopher--to go out and choose the girl a present; so he has sent hisclerk out with a check to buy a pewter teapot, and fill it with specie. "

"Pewter!" cried Rosa. "No such thing! It's nickel. What is nickel, Iwonder?"

The handwriting afforded no clew, so there the discussion ended: but itwas a nice little mystery, and very convenient; made conversation. Rosahad many an animated discussion about it with her female friends. 

The wedding-day came at last. The sun shone--ACTUALLY, as Rosa observed. The carriages drove up. The bridesmaids, principally old schoolfellowsand impassioned correspondents of Rosa, were pretty, and dressed alikeand delightfully; but the bride was peerless; her Southern beautyliterally shone in that white satin dress and veil, and her head wasregal with the Crown of orange-blossoms. Another crown she had--truevirgin modesty. A low murmur burst from the men the moment they saw her;the old women forgave her beauty on the spot, and the young women almostpardoned it; she was so sweet and womanly, and so sisterly to her ownsex. 

When they started for the church she began to tremble, she scarce knewwhy; and when the solemn words were said, and the ring was put onher finger, she cried a little, and looked half imploringly at herbridesmaids once, as if seared at leaving them for an untried andmysterious life with no woman near. 

They were married. Then came the breakfast, that hour of uneasiness andblushing to such a bride as this; but at last she was released. She spedup-stairs, thanking goodness it was over. Down came her last box. Thebride followed in a plain travelling dress, which her glorious eyes andbrows and her rich glowing cheeks seemed to illumine: she was handedinto the carriage, the bridegroom followed. All the young guestsclustered about the door, armed with white shoes--slippers are gone by. 

They started; the ladies flung their white shoes right and left withreligious impartiality, except that not one of their missiles went atthe object. The men, more skilful, sent a shower on to the roof ofthe carriage, which is the lucky spot. The bride kissed her hand, andmanaged to put off crying, though it cost her a struggle. The partyhurrahed; enthusiastic youths gathered fallen shoes, and ran and hurledthem again with cheerful yells, and away went the happy pair, thebride leaning sweetly and confidingly with both her white hands on thebridegroom's shoulder, while he dried the tears that would run now atleaving home and parent forever, and kissed her often, and encircled herwith his strong arm, and murmured comfort, and love, and pride, and joy, and sweet vows of lifelong tenderness into her ears, that soon stolenearer his lips to hear, and the fair cheek grew softly to his shoulder. 

CHAPTER VI. 

Dr. Staines and Mrs. Staines visited France, Switzerland, and the Rhine, and passed a month of Elysium before they came to London to face theirreal destiny and fight the battle of life. 

And here, methinks, a reader of novels may perhaps cry out and say, "What manner of man is this, who marries his hero and heroine, and then, instead of leaving them happy for life, and at rest from his uneasy penand all their other troubles, flows coolly on with their adventures?"

To this I can only reply that the old English novel is no rule to me, and life is; and I respectfully propose an experiment. Catch eight oldmarried people, four of each sex, and say unto them, "Sir, " or "Madam, did the more remarkable events of your life come to you before marriageor after?" Most of them will say "after, " and let that be my excuse fortreating the marriage of Christopher Staines and Rosa Lusignan as merelyone incident in their lives; an incident which, so far from ending theirstory, led by degrees to more striking events than any that occurred tothem before they were man and wife. 

They returned, then, from their honey tour, and Staines, who wasmethodical and kept a diary, made the following entry therein:--

"We have now a life of endurance, and self-denial, and economy, beforeus; we have to rent a house, and furnish it, and live in it, untilprofessional income shall flow in and make all things easy: and we havetwo thousand five hundred pounds left to do it with. "

They came to a family hotel, and Dr. Staines went out directly afterbreakfast to look for a house. Acting on a friend's advice, he visitedthe streets and places north of Oxford Street, looking for a goodcommodious house adapted to his business. He found three or four at fairrents, neither cheap nor dear, the district being respectable and ratherwealthy, but no longer fashionable. He came home with his notes, andfound Rosa beaming in a crisp peignoir, and her lovely head its naturalsize and shape, high-bred and elegant. He sat down, and with her handin his proceeded to describe the houses to her, when a waiter threw openthe door--"Mrs. John Cole. "

"Florence!" cried Rosa, starting up. 

In flowed Florence: they both uttered a little squawk of delight, and went at each other like two little tigresses, and kissed in swiftalternation with a singular ardor, drawing their crests back likesnakes, and then darting them forward and inflicting what, to the malephilosopher looking on, seemed hard kisses, violent kisses, rather thanthe tender ones to be expected from two tender creatures embracing eachother. 

"Darling, " said Rosa, "I knew you would be the first. Didn't I tell youso, Christopher?--My husband--my darling Florry! Sit down, love, andtell me everything; he has just been looking out for a house. Ah!you have got all that over long ago: she has been married six months. Florry, you are handsomer than ever; and what a beautiful dress! Ah!London is the place. Real Brussels, I declare, " and she took hold of herfriend's lace and gloated on it. 

Christopher smiled good-naturedly, and said, "I dare say you ladies havea good deal to say to each other. "

"Oceans, " said Rosa. 

"I will go and hunt houses again. "

"There's a good husband, " said Mrs. Cole, as soon as the door closedon him, "and such a fine man! Why, he must be six feet. Mine is rathershort. But he is very good; refuses me nothing. My will is law. "

"That is all right--you are so sensible; but I want governing a little, and I like it--actually. Did the dressmaker find it, dear?"

"Oh, no! I had it by me. I bought it at Brussels on our wedding tour: itis dearer there than in London. "

She said this as if "dearer" and "better" were synonymous. 

"But about your house, Rosie dear?"

"Yes, darling, I'll tell you all about it. I never saw a moirethis shade before. I don't care for them in general; but this is sodistingue. "

Florence rewarded her with a kiss. 

"The house, " said Rosa. "Oh, he has seen one in Portman Street, and onein Gloucester Place. "

"Oh, that will never do, " cried Mrs. Cole. "It is no use being aphysician in those out-of-the-way places. He must be in Mayfair. "

"Must he?"

"Of course. Besides, then my Johnnie can call him in when they are justgoing to die. Johnnie is a general prac. , and makes two thousand a year;and he shall call your one in; but he must live in Mayfair. Why, Rosie, you would not be such a goose as to live in those places--they are quitegone by. "

"I shall do whatever you advise me, dear. Oh, what a comfort to have adear friend: and six months married, and knows things. How richly it istrimmed! Why, it is nearly all trimmings. "

"That is the fashion. "

"Oh!"

And after that big word there was no more to be said. 

These two ladies in their conversation gravitated towards dress, andfell flat on it every half-minute. That great and elevating topic heldthem by a silken cord, but it allowed them to flutter upwards into othertopics; and in those intervals, numerous though brief, the lady who hadbeen married six months found time to instruct the matrimonial novicewith great authority, and even a shade of pomposity. "My dear, the wayladies and gentlemen get a house--in the first place, you don't go aboutyourself like that, and you never go to the people themselves, or youare sure to be taken in, but to a respectable house-agent. "

"Yes, dear, that must be the best way, one would think. "

"Of course it is; and you ask for a house in Mayfair, and he shows youseveral, and recommends you the best, and sees you are not cheated. "

"Thank you, love, " said Rosa; "now I know what to do; I'll not forget aword. And the train so beautifully shaped! Ah! it is only in London orParis they can make a dress flow behind like that, " etc. , etc. 

Dr. Staines came back to dinner in good spirits; he had found a house inHarewood Square; good entrance hall, where his gratuitous patients mightsit on benches; good dining-room where his superior patients might wait;and good library, to be used as a consulting-room. Rent only eighty-fivepounds per annum. 

But Rosa told him that would never do; a physician must be in thefashionable part of the town. 

"Eventually, " said Christopher; "but surely at first starting--and youknow they say little boats should not go too far from shore. "

Then Rosa repeated all her friend's arguments, and seemed so unhappy atthe idea of not living near her, that Staines, who had not yet saidthe hard word "no" to her, gave in; consoling his prudence with thereflection that, after all, Mr. Cole could put many a guinea in hisway, for Mr. Cole was middle-aged, --though his wife was young, --and hadreally a very large practice. 

So next day, the newly-wedded pair called on a house-agent in Mayfair, and his son and partner went with them to several places. The rents ofhouses equal to that in Harewood Square were three hundred pounds a yearat least, and a premium to boot. 

Christopher told him these were quite beyond the mark. "Very well, " saidthe agent. "Then I'll show you a Bijou. "

Rosa clapped her hands. "That is the thing for us. We don't want a largehouse, only a beautiful one, and in Mayfair. "

"Then the Bijou will be sure to suit you. "

He took them to the Bijou. 

The Bijou had a small dining-room with one very large window in twosheets of plate glass, and a projecting balcony full of flowers; a stillsmaller library, which opened on a square yard enclosed. Here were agreat many pots, with flowers dead or dying from neglect. On the firstfloor a fair-sized drawing-room, and a tiny one at the back: on thesecond floor, one good bedroom, and a dressing-room, or little bedroom:three garrets above. 

Rosa was in ecstasies. "It is a nest, " said she. 

"It is a bank-note, " said the agent, stimulating equal enthusiasm, afterhis fashion. "You can always sell the lease again for more money. "

Christopher kept cool. "I don't want a house to sell, but to live in, and do my business; I am a physician: now the drawing-room is built overthe entrance to a mews; the back rooms all look into a mews: we shallhave the eternal noise and smell of a mews. My wife's rest will bebroken by the carriages rolling in and out. The hall is fearfully smalland stuffy. The rent is abominably high; and what is the premium for, Iwonder?"

"Always a premium in Mayfair, sir. A lease is property here: thegentleman is not acquainted with this part, madam. "

"Oh, yes, he is, " said Rosa, as boldly as a six years' wife: "he knowseverything. "

"Then he knows that a house of this kind at a hundred and thirty poundsa year in Mayfair is a bank-note. "

Staines turned to Rosa. "The poor patients, where am I to receive them?"

"In the stable, " suggested the house agent. 

"Oh!" said Rosa, shocked. 

"Well, then, the coach-house. Why, there's plenty of room for abrougham, and one horse, and fifty poor patients at a time: beggarsmusn't be choosers; if you give them physic gratis, that is enough: youain't bound to find 'em a palace to sit down in, and hot coffee and rumpsteaks all round, doctor. "

This tickled Rosa so that she burst out laughing, and thenceforwardgiggled at intervals, wit of this refined nature having all the charm ofnovelty for her. 

They inspected the stables, which were indeed the one redeeming featurein the horrid little Bijou; and then the agent would show them thekitchen, and the new stove. He expatiated on this to Mrs. Staines. "Cooka dinner for thirty people, madam. "

"And there's room for them to eat it--in the road, " said Staines. 

The agent reminded him there were larger places to be had, by a verysimple process, viz. , paying for them. 

Staines thought of the large, comfortable house in Harewood Square. "Onehundred and thirty pounds a year for this poky little hole?" he groaned. 

"Why, it is nothing at all for a Bijou. "

"But it is too much for a bandbox. "

Rosa laid her hand on his arm, with an imploring glance. 

"Well, " said he, "I'll submit to the rent, but I really cannot give thepremium, it is too ridiculous. He ought to bribe me to rent it, not Ihim. "

"Can't be done without, sir. "

"Well, I'll give a hundred pounds and no more. "

"Impossible, sir. "

"Then good morning. Now, dearest, just come and see the house atHarewood Square, --eighty-five pounds and no premium. "

"Will you oblige me with your address, doctor?" said the agent. 

"Dr. Staines, Morley's Hotel. "

And so they left Mayfair. 

Rosa sighed and said, "Oh, the nice little place; and we have lost itfor two hundred pounds. "

"Two hundred pounds is a great deal for us to throw away. "

"Being near the Coles would soon have made that up to you: and such acosey little nest. "

"Well the house will not run away. "

"But somebody is sure to snap it up. It is a Bijou. " She wasdisappointed, and half inclined to pout. But she vented her feelingsin a letter to her beloved Florry, and appeared at dinner as sweet asusual. 

During dinner a note came from the agent, accepting Dr. Staine's offer. He glozed the matter thus: he had persuaded the owner it was betterto take a good tenant at a moderate loss, than to let the Bijou beuninhabited during the present rainy season. An assignment ofthe lease--which contained the usual covenants--would be preparedimmediately, and Dr. Staines could have possession in forty-eight hours, by paying the premium. 

Rosa was delighted, and as soon as dinner was over, and the waitersgone, she came and kissed Christopher. 

He smiled, and said, "Well, you are pleased; that is the principalthing. I have saved two hundred pounds, and that is something. It willgo towards furnishing. "

"La! yes, " said Rosa, "I forgot. We shall have to get furniture now. How nice!" It was a pleasure the man of forecast could have willinglydispensed with; but he smiled at her, and they discussed furniture, and Christopher, whose retentive memory had picked up a little ofeverything, said there were wholesale upholsterers in the City who soldcheaper than the West-end houses, and he thought the best way was tomeasure the rooms in the Bijou, and go to the city with a clear idea ofwhat they wanted; ask the prices of various necessary articles, andthen make a list, and demand a discount of fifteen per cent on the wholeorder, being so considerable, and paid for in cash. 

Rosa acquiesced, and told Christopher he was the cleverest man inEngland. 

About nine o'clock Mrs. Cole came in to condole with her friend, andheard the good news. When Rosa told her how they thought of furnishing, she said, "Oh no, you must not do that; you will pay double foreverything. That is the mistake Johnnie and I made; and after thata friend of mine took me to the auction-rooms, and I saw everythingsold--oh, such bargains; half, and less than half, their value. Shehas furnished her house almost entirely from sales, and she has theloveliest things in the world--such ducks of tables, and jardinieres, and things; and beautiful rare china--her house swarms with it--for anold song. A sale is the place. And then so amusing. "

"Yes, but, " said Christopher, "I should not like my wife to encounter apublic room. "

"Not alone, of course; but with me. La! Dr. Staines, they are too fullof buying and selling to trouble their heads about us. "

"Oh, Christopher, do let me go with her. Am I always to be a child?"

Thus appealed to before a stranger, Staines replied warmly, "No, dearest, no; you cannot please me better than by beginning life inearnest. If you two ladies together can face an auction-room, go by allmeans; only I must ask you not to buy china or ormulu, or anything thatwill break or spoil, but only solid, good furniture. "

"Won't you come with us?"

"No; or you might feel yourself in leading-strings. Remember the Bijouis a small house; choose your furniture to fit it, and then we shallsave something by its being so small. "

This was Wednesday. There was a weekly sale in Oxford Street on Fridays;and the ladies made the appointment accordingly. 

Next day, after breakfast, Christopher was silent and thoughtful awhile, and at last said to Rosa, "I'll show you I don't look on you as a child;I'll consult you in a delicate matter. "

Rosa's eyes sparkled. 

"It is about my Uncle Philip. He has been very cruel; he has woundedme deeply; he has wounded me through my wife. I never thought he wouldrefuse to come to our marriage. "

"And did he? You never showed me his letter. "

"You were not my wife then. I kept an affront from you; but now, yousee, I keep nothing. "

"Dear Christie!"

"I am so happy, I have got over that sting--almost; and the memory ofmany kind acts comes back to me; and I don't know what to do. It seemsungrateful not to visit him--it seems almost mean to call. "

"I'll tell you; take me to see him directly. He won't hate us forever, if he sees us often. We may as well begin at once. Nobody hates melong. "

Christopher was proud of his wife's courage and wisdom. He kissedher, begged her to put on the plainest dress she could, and they wenttogether to call on Uncle Philip. 

When they got to his house in Gloucester Place, Portman Square, Rosa'sheart began to quake, and she was right glad when the servant said "Notat home. "

They left their cards and address; and she persuaded Christopher to takeher to the sale-room to see the things. 

A lot of brokers were there, like vultures; and one after anotherstepped forward and pestered them to employ him in the morning. Dr. Staines declined their services civilly but firmly, and he and Rosalooked over a quantity of furniture, and settled what sort of things tobuy. 

Another broker came up, and whenever the couple stopped before anarticle, proceeded to praise it as something most extraordinary. Staineslistened in cold, satirical silence, and told his wife, in French, to dothe same. Notwithstanding their marked disgust, the impudent, intrusivefellow stuck to them, and forced his venal criticism on them, and madethem uncomfortable, and shortened their tour of observation. 

"I think I shall come with you to-morrow, " said Christopher, "or I shallhave these blackguards pestering you. "

"Oh, Florry will send them to the right-about. She is as brave as alion. "

Next day Dr. Staines was sent for into the City at twelve to pay themoney and receive the lease of the Bijou, and this and the takingpossession occupied him till four o'clock, when he came to his hotel. 

Meantime, his wife and Mrs. Cole had gone to the auction-room. 

It was a large room, with a good sprinkling of people, but not crowdedexcept about the table. At the head of this table--full twenty feetlong--was the auctioneer's pulpit, and the lots were brought in turn tothe other end of the table for sight and sale. 

"We must try and get a seat, " said the enterprising Mrs. Cole, andpushed boldly in; the timid Rosa followed strictly in her wake, and soevaded the human waves her leader clove. They were importuned at everystep by brokers thrusting catalogues on them, with offers of theirservices, yet they soon got to the table. A gentleman resigned onechair, a broker another, and they were seated. 

Mrs. Staines let down half her veil, but Mrs. Cole surveyed the companypoint-blank. 

The broker who had given up his seat, and now stood behind Rosa, offeredher his catalogue. "No, thank you, " said Rosa; "I have one;" and sheproduced it, and studied it, yet managed to look furtively at thecompany. 

There were not above a dozen private persons visible from whereRosa sat; perhaps as many more in the whole room. They were easilydistinguishable by their cleanly appearance: the dealers, male orfemale, were more or less rusty, greasy, dirty, aquiline. Not even theamateurs were brightly dressed; that fundamental error was confined toMesdames Cole and Staines. The experienced, however wealthy, do not huntbargains in silk and satin. 

The auctioneer called "Lot 7. Four saucepans, two trays, a kettle, abootjack, and a towel-horse. "

These were put up at two shillings, and speedily knocked down for fiveto a fat old woman in a greasy velvet jacket; blind industry had sewedbugles on it, not artfully, but agriculturally. 

"The lady on the left!" said the auctioneer to his clerk. That meant"Get the money. "

The old lady plunged a huge paw into a huge pocket, and pulled out ahuge handful of coin--copper, silver, and gold--and paid for the lot;and Rosa surveyed her dirty hands and nails with innocent dismay. "Oh, what a dreadful creature!" she whispered; "and what can she want withthose old rubbishy things? I saw a hole in one from here. " The brokeroverheard, and said, "She is a dealer, ma'am, and the things were givenaway. She'll sell them for a guinea, easy. "

"Didn't I tell you?" said Mrs. Cole. 

Soon after this the superior lots came on, and six very neat bedroomchairs were sold to all appearance for fifteen shillings. 

The next lot was identical, and Rosa hazarded a bid, --"Sixteenshillings. "

Instantly some dealer, one of the hook-nosed that gathered round eachlot as it came to the foot of the table, cried "Eighteen shillings. "

"Nineteen, " said Rosa. 

"A guinea, " said the dealer. 

"Don't let it go, " said the broker behind her. "Don't let it go, ma'am. "

She colored at the intrusion, and left off bidding directly, andaddressed herself to Mrs. Cole. "Why should I give so much, when thelast were sold for fifteen shillings?"

The real reason was that the first lot was not bid for at all, except bythe proprietor. However, the broker gave her a very different solution;he said, "The trade always run up a lady or a gentleman. Let me bid foryou; they won't run me up; they know better. "

Rosa did not reply, but looked at Mrs. Cole. 

"Yes, dear, " said that lady; "you had much better let him bid for you. "

"Very well, " said Rosa; "you can bid for this chest of drawers--lot 25. "

When lot 25 came on, the broker bid in the silliest possible way, ifhis object had been to get a bargain. He began to bid early andostentatiously; the article was protected by somebody or other therepresent, who now of course saw his way clear; he ran it up audaciously, and it was purchased for Rosa at about the price it could have beenbought for at a shop. 

The next thing she wanted was a set of oak chairs. 

They went up to twenty-eight pounds; then she said, "I shall give nomore, sir. "

"Better not lose them, " said the agent; "they are a great bargain;" andbid another pound for her on his own responsibility. 

They were still run up, and Rosa peremptorily refused to give any more. She lost them, accordingly, by good luck. Her faithful broker lookedblank; so did the proprietor. 

But, as the sale proceeded, she being young, the competition, thoughmost of it sham, being artful and exciting, and the traitor she employedconstantly puffing every article, she was drawn in to wishing forthings, and bidding by her feelings. 

Then her traitor played a game that has been played a hundred times, andthe perpetrators never once lynched, as they ought to be, on the spot. He signalled a confederate with a hooked nose; the Jew rascal bidagainst the Christian scoundrel, and so they ran up the more enticingthings to twice their value under the hammer. 

Rosa got flushed, and her eye gleamed like a gambler's, and she boughtaway like wildfire. In which sport she caught sight of an old gentleman, with little black eyes that kept twinkling at her. 

She complained of these eyes to Mrs. Cole. "Why does he twinkle so? Ican see it is at me. I am doing something foolish--I know I am. "

Mrs. Cole turned, and fixed a haughty stare on the old gentleman. Wouldyou believe it? instead of sinking through the floor, he sat his ground, and retorted with a cold, clear grin. 

But now, whenever Rosa's agent bid for her, and the other man of strawagainst him, the black eyes twinkled, and Rosa's courage began to oozeaway. At last she said, "That is enough for one day. I shall go. Whocould bear those eyes?"

The broker took her address; so did the auctioneer's clerk. Theauctioneer asked her for no deposit; her beautiful, innocent, andhigh-bred face was enough for a man who was always reading faces, andinterpreting them. 

And so they retired. 

But this charming sex is like that same auctioneer's hammer, it cannotgo abruptly. It is always going--going--going--a long time before it isgone. I think it would perhaps loiter at the door of a jail, with theorder of release in its hand, after six years' confinement. Getting upto go quenches in it the desire to go. So these ladies having got up togo, turned and lingered, and hung fire so long, that at last another setof oak chairs came up. "Oh! I must see what these go for, " said Rosa, atthe door. 

The bidding was mighty languid now Rosa's broker was not stimulatingit; and the auctioneer was just knocking down twelve chairs--oak andleather--and two arm-chairs, for twenty pounds, when, casting his eyesaround, he caught sight of Rosa looking at him rather excited. He lookedinquiringly at her. She nodded slightly; he knocked them down to her attwenty guineas, and they were really a great bargain. 

"Twenty-two, " cried the dealer. 

"Too late, " said the auctioneer. 

"I spoke with the hammer, sir. "

"After the hammer, Isaacs. "

"Shelp me God, we was together. "

One or two more of his tribe confirmed this pious falsehood, andclamored to have them put up again. 

"Call the next lot, " said the auctioneer, peremptorily. "Make up yourmind a little quicker next time, Mr. Isaacs; you have been long enoughat it to know the value of oak and moroccar. "

Mrs. Staines and her friend now started for Morley's Hotel, but wentround by Regent Street, whereby they got glued at Peter Robinson'swindow, and nine other windows; and it was nearly five o'clock when theyreached Morley's. As they came near the door of their sitting-room, Mrs. Staines heard somebody laughing and talking to her husband. Thelaugh, to her subtle ears, did not sound musical and genial, but keen, satirical, unpleasant; so it was with some timidity she opened the door, and there sat the old chap with the twinkling eyes. Both parties staredat each other a moment. 

"Why, it is them, " cried the old gentleman. "Ha! ha! ha! ha! ha!"

Rosa colored all over, and felt guilty somehow, and looked miserable. 

"Rosa dear, " said Dr. Staines, "this is our Uncle Philip. "

"Oh!" said Rosa, and turned red and pale by turns; for she had a greatdesire to propitiate Uncle Philip. 

"You were in the auction-room, sir?" said Mrs. Cole, severely. 

"I was, madam. He! he!"

"Furnishing a house?"

"No, ma'am. I go to a dozen sales a week; but it is not to buy--I enjoythe humors. Did you ever hear of Robert Burton, ma'am?"

"No. Yes; a great traveller, isn't he? Discovered the Nile--or theNiger--or SOMETHING?"

This majestic vagueness staggered old Crusty at first, but he recoveredhis equilibrium, and said, "Why, yes, now I think of it, you are right;he has travelled farther than most of us, for about two centuries agohe visited that bourn whence no traveller returns. Well, when he wasalive--he was a student of Christchurch--he used to go down to a certainbridge over the Isis and enjoy the chaff of the bargemen. Now there areno bargemen left to speak of; the mantle of Bobby Burton's bargees hasfallen on the Jews and demi-semi-Christians that buy and sell furnitureat the weekly auctions; thither I repair to hear what little coarse witis left us. Used to go to the House of Commons; but they are getting toocivil by half for my money. Besides, characters come out in an auction. For instance, only this very day I saw two ladies enter, in gorgeousattire, like heifers decked for sacrifice, and reduce their spoliationto a certainty by employing a broker to bid. Now, what is a broker?A fellow who is to be paid a shilling in the pound for all articlespurchased. What is his interest, then? To buy cheap? Clearly not. He ispaid in proportion to the dearness of the article. "

Rosa's face began to work piteously. 

"Accordingly, what did the broker in question do? He winked to anotherbroker, and these two bid against one another, over their victim's head, and ran everything she wanted up at least a hundred per cent above thevalue. So open and transparent a swindle I have seldom seen, even in anauction-room. Ha! ha! ha! ha! ha!"

His mirth was interrupted by Rosa going to her husband, hiding her headon his shoulder, and meekly crying. 

Christopher comforted her like a man. "Don't you cry, darling, " said he;"how should a pure creature like you know the badness of the world allin a moment? If it is my wife you are laughing at, Uncle Philip, let metell you this is the wrong place. I'd rather a thousand times have heras she is, than armed with the cunning and suspicions of a hardened oldworldling like you. "

"With all my heart, " said Uncle Philip, who, to do him justice, couldtake blows as well as give them; "but why employ a broker? Why pay ascoundrel five per cent to make you pay a hundred per cent? Why pay anoisy fool a farthing to open his mouth for you when you have taken thetrouble to be there yourself, and have got a mouth of your own to biddiscreetly with? Was ever such an absurdity?" He began to get angry. 

"Do you want to quarrel with me, Uncle Philip?" said Christopher, firingup; "because sneering at my Rosa is the way, and the only way, and thesure way. "

"Oh, no, " said Rosa, interposing. "Uncle Philip was right. I am veryfoolish and inexperienced, but I am not so vain as to turn from goodadvice. I will never employ a broker again, sir. "

Uncle Philip smiled and looked pleased. 

Mrs. Cole caused a diversion by taking leave, and Rosa followed herdown-stairs. On her return she found Christopher telling his uncle allabout the Bijou, and how he had taken it for a hundred and thirty poundsa year and a hundred pounds premium, and Uncle Philip staring fearfully. 

At last he found his tongue. "The Bijou!" said he. "Why, that is a namethey gave to a little den in Dear Street, Mayfair. You haven't ever beenand taken THAT! Built over a mews. "

Christopher groaned. "That is the place, I fear. "

"Why the owner is a friend of mine; an old patient. Stables stunk himout. Let it to a man; I forget his name. Stables stunk HIM out. He said, 'I shall go. ' 'You can't, ' said my friend; 'you have taken a lease. ''Lease be d--d, ' said the other; 'I never took YOUR house; here's quitea large stench not specified in your description of the property--ITCAN'T BE THE SAME PLACE;' flung the lease at his head, and cut like thewind to foreign parts less odoriferous. I'd have got you the hole forninety; but you are like your wife--you must go to an agent. What! don'tyou know that an agent is a man acting for you with an interest opposedto yours? Employing an agent! it is like a Trojan seeking the aid ofa Greek. You needn't cry, Mrs. Staines; your husband has been let indeeper than you have. Now, you are young people beginning life; I'llgive you a piece of advice. Employ others to do what you can't do, and it must be done; but never to do anything you can do better foryourselves! Agent! The word is derived from a Latin word 'agere, ' todo; and agents act up to their etymology, for they invariably DO thenincompoop that employs them, or deals with them, in any mortal way. I'dhave got you that beastly little Bijou for ninety pounds a year. "

Uncle Philip went away crusty, leaving the young couple finely mortifiedand discouraged. 

That did not last very long. Christopher noted the experience and UnclePhil's wisdom in his diary, and then took his wife on his knee, andcomforted her, and said, "Never mind; experience is worth money, andit always has to be bought. Those who cheat us will die poorer than weshall, if we are honest and economical. I have observed that people areseldom ruined by the vices of others; these may hurt them, of course;but it is only their own faults and follies that can destroy them. "

"Ah! Christie, " said Rosa, "you are a man! Oh, the comfort of beingmarried to A MAN. A man sees the best side. I do adore men. Dearest, Iwill waste no more of your money. I will go to no more sales. "

Christopher saw she was deeply mortified, and he said, quietly, "On thecontrary, you will go to the very next. Only take Uncle Philip's advice, employ no broker; and watch the prices things fetch when you are notbidding; and keep cool. "

She caressed his ears with both her white hands, and thanked him forgiving her another trial. So that trouble melted in the sunshine ofconjugal love. 

Notwithstanding the agent's solemn assurance, the Bijou was out ofrepair. Dr. Staines detected internal odors, as well as those thatflowed in from the mews. He was not the man to let his wife perish bymiasma; so he had the drains all up, and actually found brick drains, and a cesspool. He stopped that up, and laid down new pipe drains, witha good fall, and properly trapped. The old drains were hidden, afterthe manner of builders. He had the whole course of his new drains markedupon all the floors they passed under, and had several stones and boardshinged to facilitate examination at any period. 

But all this, with the necessary cleaning, whitewashing, painting, andpapering, ran away with money. Then came Rosa's purchases, which, to heramazement, amounted to one hundred and ninety pounds, and not a carpet, curtain, or bed amongst the lot. Then there was the carriage home fromthe auction-room, an expense one avoids by buying at a shop, andthe broker claimed his shilling in the pound. This, however, Stainesrefused. The man came and blustered. Rosa, who was there, trembled. Then, for the first time, she saw her husband's brow lower; he seemedtransfigured, and looked terrible. "You scoundrel, " said he, "you setanother villain like yourself to bid against you, and you betrayed theinnocent lady that employed you. I could indict you and your confederatefor a conspiracy. I take the goods out of respect for my wife's credit, but you shall gain nothing by swindling her. Be off, you heartlessmiscreant, or I'll"--

"I'll take the law, if you do. "

"Take it, then! I'll give you something to howl for;" and he seized himwith a grasp so tremendous that the fellow cried out in dismay, "Oh!don't hit me, sir; pray don't. "

On this abject appeal, Staines tore the door open with his left hand, and spun the broker out into the passage with his right. Two movementsof this angry Hercules, and the man was literally whirled out of sightwith a rapidity and swiftness almost ludicrous; it was like a trick ina pantomime. A clatter on the stairs betrayed that he had gone down thefirst few steps in a wholesale and irregular manner, though he had justmanaged to keep his feet. 

As for Staines, he stood there still lowering like thunder, and hiseyes like hot coals; but his wife threw her tender arms around him, andbegged him consolingly not to mind. 

She was trembling like an aspen. 

"Dear me, " said Christopher, with a ludicrous change to markedpoliteness and respect, "I forgot YOU, in my righteous indignation. "Next he became uxorious. "Did they frighten her, a duck? Sit on myknee, darling, and pull my hair, for not being more considerate--there!there!"

This was followed by the whole absurd soothing process, as practised bymanly husbands upon quivering and somewhat hysterical wives, and endedwith a formal apology. "You must not think that I am passionate; on thecontrary, I am always practising self-government. My maxim is, Animumrege qui nisi paret imperat, and that means, Make your temper yourservant, or else it will be your master. But to ill-use my dear littlewife--it is unnatural, it is monstrous, it makes my blood boil. "

"Oh, dear! don't go into another. It is all over. I can't bear to seeyou in a passion; you are so terrible, so beautiful. Ah! they are finethings, courage and strength. There's nothing I admire so much. "

"Why, they are as common as dirt. What I admire is modesty, timidity, sweetness; the sensitive cheek that pales or blushes at a word, thebosom that quivers, and clings to a fellow whenever anything goeswrong. "

"Oh, that is what you admire, is it?" said Rosa dryly. 

"Admire it?" said Christopher, not seeing the trap; "I adore it. "

"Then, Christie, dear, you are a Simpleton, that is all. And we are madefor one another. "

The house was to be furnished and occupied as soon as possible; so Mrs. Staines and Mrs. Cole went to another sale-room. Mrs. Staines rememberedall Uncle Philip had said, and went plainly dressed; but her frienddeclined to sacrifice her showy dress to her friend's interests. Rosathought that a little unkind, but said nothing. 

In this auction-room they easily got a place at the table, but did notfind it heaven; for a number of secondhand carpets were in the sale, and these, brimful of dust, were all shown on the table, and the dirtchoked, and poisoned our fair friends. Brokers pestered them, until atlast Rosa, smarting under her late exposure, addressed the auctioneerquietly, in her silvery tones: "Sir, these gentlemen are annoying me byforcing their services on me. I do not intend to buy at all unless I canbe allowed to bid for myself. "

When Rosa, blushing and amazed at her own boldness, uttered these words, she little foresaw their effect. She had touched a popular sore. 

"You are quite right, madam, " said a respectable tradesman opposite her. "What business have these dirty fellows, without a shilling in theirpockets, to go and force themselves on a lady against her will?"

"It has been complained of in the papers again and again, " said another. 

"What! mayn't we live as well as you?" retorted a broker. 

"Yes, but not to force yourself on a lady. Why, she'd give you in chargeof the police if you tried it on outside. "

Then there was a downright clamor of discussion and chaff. 

Presently up rises very slowly a countryman so colossal, that it seemedas if he would never have done getting up, and gives his experiences. Heinformed the company, in a broad Yorkshire dialect, that he did a bitin furniture, and at first starting these brokers buzzed about him likeflies, and pestered him. "Aah damned 'em pretty hard, " said he, "butthey didn't heed any. So then ah spoke 'em civil, and ah said, 'Well, lads, I dinna come fra Yorkshire to sit like a dummy and let you buywi' my brass; the first that pesters me again ah'll just fell him ont' plaace, like a caulf, and ah'm not very sure he'll get up again in ahurry. ' So they dropped me like a hot potato; never pestered me again. But if they won't give over pestering you, mistress, ah'll come roundand just stand behind your chair, and bring nieve with me, " showing afist like a leg of mutton. 

"No, no, " said the auctioneer, "that will not do. I will have nodisturbance here. Call the policeman. "

While the clerk went to the door for the bobby, a gentleman remindedthe auctioneer that the journals had repeatedly drawn attention to thenuisance. 

"Fault of the public, not mine, sir. Policeman, stand behind that lady'schair, and if anybody annoys her put him quietly into the street. "

"This auction-room will be to let soon, " said a voice at the end of thetable. 

"This auction-room, " said the auctioneer, master of the gay or grave ata moment's notice, "is supported by the public and the trade; it is notsupported by paupers. "

A Jew upholsterer put in his word. "I do my own business; but I like tolet a poor man live. "

"Jonathan, " said the auctioneer to one of his servants, "after this saleyou may put up the shutters; we have gone and offended Mr. Jacobs. Hekeeps a shop in Blind Alley, Whitechapel. Now then, lot 69. "

Rosa bid timidly for one or two lots, and bought them cheap. 

The auctioneer kept looking her way, and she had only to nod. 

The obnoxious broker got opposite her, and ran her up a little out ofspite; but as he had only got half a crown about him, and no means ofdoubling it, he dared not go far. 

On the other side of the table was a figure to which Rosa's eyes oftenturned with interest--a fair young boy about twelve years old; he hadgolden hair, and was in deep mourning. His appearance interested Rosa, and she wondered how he came there, and why; he looked like a lambwedged in among wolves, a flower among weeds. As the lots proceeded, theboy seemed to get uneasy; and at last, when lot '73 was put up, anybodycould see in his poor little face that he was there to bid for it. 

"Lot '73, an armchair covered in morocco. An excellent and usefularticle. Should not be at all surprised if it was made by Gillow. "

"Gillow would though, " said Jacobs, who owed him a turn. 

Chorus of dealers. --"Haw! haw!"

The auctioneer. --"I like to hear some people run a lot down; shows theyare going to bid for it in earnest. Well, name your own price. Fivepounds to begin?"

Now if nobody had spoken the auctioneer would have gone on, "Well, fourpounds then--three, two, whatever you like, " and at last obtained a bonafide offer of thirty shillings; but the moment he said "Five pounds tobegin, " the boy in black lifted up his childish treble and bid thus, "Five pound ten"--"six pounds"--"six pound ten"--"seven pounds"--"sevenpound ten"--"eight pounds"--"eight pound ten"--"nine pounds"--"ninepound ten"--"ten pounds!" without interruption, and indeed almost in abreath. 

There was a momentary pause of amazement, and then an outburst of chaff. 

"Nice little boy!"

"Didn't he say his lesson well?"

"Favor us with your card, sir. You are a gent as knows how to buy. "

"What did he stop for? If it's worth ten, it is worth a hundred. "

"Bless the child!" said a female dealer, kindly, "what made you go onlike that? Why, there was no one bid against you! you'd have got it fortwo pounds--a rickety old thing. "

Young master began to whimper. "Why, the gentleman said, 'Five poundsto BEGIN. ' It was the chair poor grandpapa always sat in, and all thethings are sold, and mamma said it would break her heart to lose it. Shewas too ill to come, so she sent me. She told me I was not to let itbe sold away from us for less than ten pounds, or she sh--should bem--m--miserable, " and the poor little fellow began to cry. Rosa followedsuit promptly but unobtrusively. 

"Sentiment always costs money, " said Mr. Jacobs, gravely. 

"How do you know?" asked Mr. Cohen. "Have YOU got any on hand? I neverseen none at your shop. "

Some tempting things now came up, and Mrs. Staines bid freely; butall of a sudden she looked down the table, and there was Uncle Philip, twinkling as before. "Oh, dear! what am I doing now!" thought she. "Ihave got no broker. "

She bid on, but in fear and trembling, because of those twinkling eyes. At last she mustered courage, wrote on a leaf of her pocket-book, andpassed it down to him: "It would be only kind to warn me. What am Idoing wrong?"

He sent her back a line directly: "Auctioneer running you up himself. Follow his eye when he bids; you will see there is no bona fide bidderat your prices. "

Rosa did so, and found that it was true. 

She nodded to Uncle Philip; and, with her expressive face, asked himwhat she should do. 

The old boy must have his joke. So he wrote back: "Tell him, as you seehe has a fancy for certain articles, you would not be so discourteous asto bid against him. "

The next article but one was a drawing-room suite Rosa wanted; but theauctioneer bid against her; so at eighteen pounds she stopped. 

"It is against you, madam, " said the auctioneer. 

"Yes, sir, " said Rosa; "but as you are the only bidder, and you havebeen so kind to me, I would not think of opposing you. "

The words were scarcely out of her mouth, when they were greeted witha roar of Homeric laughter that literally shook the room, and this timenot at the expense of the innocent speaker. 

"That's into your mutton, governor. "

"Sharp's the word this time. "

"I say, governor, don't you want a broker to bid for ye?"

"Wink at me next time, sir; I'll do the office for you. "

"No greenhorns left now. "

"That lady won't give a ten-pund note for her grandfather's armchair. "

"Oh, yes, she will, if it's stuffed with banknotes. "

"Put the next lot up with the owner's name and the reserve price. Openbusiness. "

"And sing a psalm at starting. "

"A little less noise in Judaea, if you please, " said the auctioneer, whohad now recovered from the blow. "Lot 97. "

This was a very pretty marqueterie cabinet; it stood against the wall, and Rosa had set her heart upon it. Nobody would bid. She had muzzledthe auctioneer effectually. 

"Your own price. "

"Two pounds, " said Rosa. 

A dealer offered guineas; and it advanced slowly to four pounds and halfa crown, at which it was about to be knocked down to Rosa, when suddenlya new bidder arose in the broker Rosa had rejected. They bid slowly andsturdily against each other, until a line was given to Rosa from UnclePhilip. 

"This time it is your own friend, the snipe-nosed woman. She telegrapheda broker. "

Rosa read, and crushed the note. "Six guineas, " said she. 

"Six-ten. "

"Seven. "

"Seven-ten. "

"Eight. "

"Eight-ten. "

"Ten guineas, " said Rosa; and then, with feminine cunning, stealing asudden glance, caught her friend leaning back and signalling the brokernot to give in. 

"Eleven pounds. "

"Twelve. "

"Thirteen. "

"Fourteen. "

"Sixteen. "

"Eighteen. "

"Twenty. "

"Twenty guineas. "

"It is yours, my faithful friend, " said Rosa, turning suddenly roundto Mrs. Cole, with a magnificent glance no one would have thought hercapable of. 

Then she rose and stalked away. 

Dumfounded for the moment, Mrs. Cole followed her, and stopped her atthe door. 

"Why, Rosie dear, it is the only thing I have bid for. There I've sat byyour side like a mouse. "

Rosa turned gravely towards her. "You know it is not that. You had onlyto tell me you wanted it. I would never have been so mean as to bidagainst you. "

"Mean, indeed!" said. Florence, tossing her head. 

"Yes, mean; to draw back and hide behind the friend you were with, and employ the very rogue she had turned off. But it is my own fault. Cecilia warned me against you. She always said you were a treacherousgirl. "

"And I say you are an impudent little minx. Only just married, and goingabout like two vagabonds, and talk to me like that!"

"We are not going about like two vagabonds. We have taken a house inMayfair. "

"Say a stable. "

"It was by your advice, you false-hearted creature. "

"You are a fool. "

"You are worse; you are a traitress. "

"Then don't you have anything to do with me. "

"Heaven forbid I should, you treacherous thing!"

"You insolent--insolent--I hate you. "

"And I despise you. "

"I always hated you at bottom. "

"That's why you pretended to love me, you wretch. "

"Well, I pretend no more. I am your enemy for life. "

"Thank you. You have told the truth for once in your life. "

"I have. And he shall never call in your husband; so you may leaveMayfair as soon as you like. "

"Not to please you, madam. We can get on without traitors. "

And so they parted, with eyes that gleamed like tigers. 

Rosa drove home in great agitation, and tried to tell Christopher; butchoked, and became hysterical. The husband-physician coaxed and scoldedher out of that; and presently in came Uncle Philip, full of the humorsof the auction-room. He told about the little boy with a delight thatdisgusted Mrs. Staines, and then was particularly merry on femalefriendships. "Fancy a man going to a sale with his friend, and biddingagainst him on the sly. "

"She is no friend of mine. We are enemies for life. "

"And you were to be friends till death, " said Staines, with a sigh. 

Philip inquired who she was. 

"Mrs. John Cole. "

"Not of Curzon Street?"

"Yes. "

"And you have quarrelled with her?"

"Yes. "

"Well, but her husband is a general practitioner. "

"She is a traitress. "

"But her husband could put a good deal of money in Christopher's way. "

"I can't help it. She is a traitress. "

"And you have quarrelled with her about an old wardrobe. "

"No, for her disloyalty, and her base good-for-nothingness. Oh! oh! oh!"

Uncle Philip got up, looking sour. "Good afternoon, Mrs. Christopher, "said he, very dryly. 

Christopher accompanied him to the foot of the stairs. "Well, Christopher, " said he, "matrimony is a blunder at the best; and you havenot done the thing by halves. You have married a simpleton. She will beyour ruin. "

"Uncle Philip, since you only come here to insult us, I hope in futureyou will stay at home. "

"Oh! with pleasure, sir. Good-by!"

CHAPTER VII. 

Christopher Staines came back, looking pained and disturbed. "There, "said he, "I feared it would come to this. I have quarrelled with UnclePhilip. "

"Oh! how could you?"

"He affronted me. "

"What about?"

"Never you mind. Don't let us say anything more about it, darling. It isa pity, a sad pity--he was a good friend of mine once. "

He paused, entered what had passed in his diary, and then sat down, witha gentle expression of sadness on his manly features. Rosa hung abouthim, soft and pitying, till it cleared away, at all events for the time. 

Next day they went together to clear the goods Rosa had purchased. Whilst the list was being made out in the office, in came thefair-haired boy, with a ten-pound note in his very hand. Rosa caughtsight of it, and turned to the auctioneer, with a sweet, pitying face:

"Oh! sir, surely you will not take all that money from him, poor child, for a rickety old chair. "

The auctioneer stared with amazement at her simplicity, and said, "Whatwould the vendors say to me?"

She looked distressed, and said, "Well, then, really we ought to raise asubscription, poor thing!"

"Why, ma'am, " said the auctioneer, "he isn't hurt: the article belongedto his mother and her sister; the brother-in-law isn't on good terms;so he demanded a public sale. She will get back four pun ten out of it. "Here the clerk put in his word. "And there's five pounds paid, I forgotto tell you. "

"Oh! left a deposit, did he?"

"No, sir. But the laughing hyena gave you five pounds at the end of thesale. "

"The laughing hyena, Mr. Jones?"

"Oh! beg pardon; that is what we call him in the room. He has got such acurious laugh. "

"Oh! I know the gent. He is a retired doctor. I wish he'd laugh lessand buy more: and HE gave you five pounds towards the young gentleman'sarm-chair! Well, I should as soon have expected blood from a flint. Youhave got five pounds to pay, sir: so now the chair will cost your mammaten shillings. Give him the order and the change, Mr. Jones. "

Christopher and Rosa talked this over in the room whilst the men werelooking out their purchases. "Come, " said Rosa; "now I forgive himsneering at me; his heart is not really hard, you see. " Staines, on thecontrary, was very angry. "What!" he cried, "pity a boy who made onebad bargain, that, after all, was not a very bad bargain; and he had nokindness, nor even common humanity, for my beautiful Rosa, inexperiencedas a child, and buying for her husband, like a good, affectionate, honest creature, amongst a lot of sharpers and hard-hearted cynics--likehimself. "

"It WAS cruel of him, " said Rosa, altering her mind in a moment, andhalf inclined to cry. 

This made Christopher furious. "The ill-natured, crotchety, old--thefact is, he is a misogynist. "

"Oh, the wretch!" said Rosa warmly. "And what is that?"

"A woman-hater. "

"Oh! is that all? Why, so do I--after that Florence Cole. Women aremean, heartless things. Give me men; they are loyal and true. "

"All of them?" inquired Christopher, a little satirically. "Read thepapers. "

"Every soul of them, " said Mrs. Staines, passing loftily over theproposed test. "That is, all the ones I care about; and that is my own, own one. "

Disagreeable creatures to have about one--these simpletons!

Mrs. Staines took Christopher to shops to buy the remaining requisites:and in three days more the house was furnished, two female servantsengaged, and the couple took their luggage over to the Bijou. 

Rosa was excited and happy at the novelty of possession and authority, and that close sense of house proprietorship which belongs to woman. Bydinner-time she could have told you how many shelves there were in everycupboard, and knew the Bijou by heart in a way that Christopher neverknew it. All this ended, as running about and excitement generally does, with my lady being exhausted, and lax with fatigue. So then he made herlie down on a little couch, while he went through his accounts. 

When he had examined all the bills carefully he looked very grave, andsaid, "Who would believe this? We began with three thousand pounds. Itwas to last us several years--till I got a good practice. Rosa, there isonly fourteen hundred and forty pounds left. "

"Oh, impossible!" said Rosa. "Oh, dear! why did I ever enter asaleroom?"

"No, no, my darling; you were bitten once or twice, but you made somegood bargains too. Remember there was four hundred pounds set apart formy life policy. "

"What a waste of money!"

"Your father did not think so. Then the lease; the premium; repairs ofthe drains that would have poisoned my Rosa; turning the coach-houseinto a dispensary; painting, papering, and furnishing; china, and linen, and everything to buy. We must look at this seriously. Only fourteenhundred and forty pounds left. A slow profession. No friends. I havequarrelled with Uncle Philip: you with Mrs. Cole; and her husband wouldhave launched me. "

"And it was to please her we settled here. Oh, I could kill her: nastycat!"

"Never mind; it is not a case for despondency, but it is for prudence. All we have to do is to look the thing in the face, and be veryeconomical in everything. I had better give you an allowance forhousekeeping; and I earnestly beg you to buy things yourself whilst youare a poor man's wife, and pay ready money for everything. My mother wasa great manager, and she always said, 'There is but one way: be your ownmarket-woman, and pay on the spot; never let the tradesmen get you ontheir books, or, what with false weight, double charges, and the thingsyour servants order that never enter the house, you lose more than ahundred a year by cheating. '"

Rosa yielded a languid assent to this part of his discourse, and ithardly seemed to enter her mind; but she raised no objection; and in duecourse he made her a special allowance for housekeeping. 

It soon transpired that medical advice was to be had, gratis, at theBijou, from eight till ten: and there was generally a good attendance. But a week passed, and not one patient came of the class this couplemust live by. Christopher set this down to what people call "thetransition period:" his Kent patients had lost him; his London patientsnot found him. He wrote to all his patients in the country, and many ofhis pupils at the university, to let them know where he was settled: andthen he waited. 

Not a creature came. 

Rosa bore this very well for a time, so long as the house was a novelty;but when that excitement was worn out, she began to be very dull, and used to come and entice him out to walk with her: he would lookwistfully at her, but object that, if he left the house, he should besure to lose a patient. 

"Oh, they won't come any more for our staying in--tiresome things!" saidRosa. 

But Christopher would kiss her, and remain firm. "My love, " said he, "you do not realize how hard a fight there is before us. How should you?You are very young. No, for your sake, I must not throw a chance away. Write to your female friends: that will while away an hour or two. "

"What, after that Florence Cole?"

"Write to those who have not made such violent professions. "

"So I will, dear. Especially to those that are married and come toLondon. Oh, and I'll write to that cold-blooded thing, Lady CicelyTreherne. Why do you shake your head?"

"Did I? I was not aware. Well, dear, if ladies of rank were to comehere, I fear they might make you discontented with your lot. "

"All the women on earth could not do that. However, the chances are shewill not come near me: she left the school quite a big girl, an immensegirl, when I was only twelve. She used to smile at my capriccios; andonce she kissed me--actually. She was an awful Sawny, though, and soaffected: I think I will write to her. "

These letters brought just one lady, a Mrs. Turner, who talked to Rosavery glibly about herself, and amused Rosa twice: at the third visit, Rosa tried to change the conversation. Mrs. Turner instantly got up, andwent away. She could not bear the sound of the human voice, unless itwas talking about her and her affairs. 

And now Staines began to feel downright uneasy. Income was goingsteadily out: not a shilling coming in. The lame, the blind, and thesick frequented his dispensary, and got his skill out of him gratis, andsometimes a little physic, a little wine, and other things that cost himmoney: but of the patients that pay, not one came to his front door. 

He walked round and round his little yard, like a hyena in its cage, waiting, waiting, waiting: and oh! how he envied the lot of those whocan hunt for work, instead of having to stay at home and wait for othersto come, whose will they cannot influence. His heart began to sickenwith hope deferred, and dim forebodings of the future; and he saw, withgrief, that his wife was getting duller and duller, and that her daysdragged more heavily, far than his own; for he could study. 

At last his knocker began to show signs of life: his visitors werephysicians. His lectures on "Diagnosis" were well known to them; and oneafter another found him out. They were polite, kind, even friendly; buthere it ended: these gentlemen, of course, did not resign their patientsto him; and the inferior class of practitioners avoided his door like apestilence. 

Mrs. Staines, who had always lived for amusement, could strike out nofixed occupation; her time hung like lead; the house was small; and insmall houses the faults of servants run against the mistress, and shecan't help seeing them, and all the worse for her. It is easier to keepthings clean in the country, and Rosa had a high standard, which her twoservants could never quite attain. This annoyed her, and she began toscold a little. They answered civilly, but in other respects remainedimperfect beings; they laid out every shilling they earned in finery;and, this, I am ashamed to say, irritated Mrs. Staines, who was wearingout her wedding garments, and had no excuse for buying, and Staineshad begged her to be economical. The more they dressed, the more shescolded; they began to answer. She gave the cook warning; the other, though not on good terms with the cook, had a gush of esprit de corpsdirectly, and gave Mrs. Staines warning. 

Mrs. Staines told her husband all this: he took her part, though withoutopenly interfering; and they had two new servants, not so good as thelast. 

This worried Rosa sadly; but it was a flea-bite to the deeper nature, and more forecasting mind of her husband, still doomed to pace thatmiserable yard, like a hyena, chafing, seeking, longing for the patientthat never came. 

Rosa used to look out of his dressing-room window, and see him pace theyard. At first, tears of pity stood in her eyes. By and by she got angrywith the world; and at last, strange to say, a little irritated withhim. It is hard for a weak woman to keep up all her respect for the manthat fails. 

One day, after watching him a long time unseen, she got excited, put onher shawl and bonnet, and ran down to him: she took him by the arm:"If you love me, come out of this prison, and walk with me; we are toomiserable. I shall be your first patient if this goes on much longer. "He looked at her, saw she was very excited, and had better be humored;so he kissed her and just said, with a melancholy smile, "How poor arethey that have not patience!" Then he put on his hat, and walked in thePark and Kensington Gardens with her. The season was just beginning. There were carriages enough, and gay Amazons enough, to make poor Rosasigh more than once. 

Christopher heard the sigh; and pressed her arm, and said, "Courage, love, I hope to see you among them yet. "

"The sooner the better, " said she, a little hardly. 

"And, meantime, which of them all is as beautiful as you?"

"All I know is, they are more attractive. Who looks at me, walkingtamely by?"

Christopher said nothing: but these words seemed to imply a thirst foradmiration, and made him a little uneasy. 

By and by the walk put the swift-changing Rosa in spirits, and she beganto chat gayly, and hung prattling and beaming on her husband's arm, when they entered Curzon Street. Here, however, occurred an incident, trifling in itself, but unpleasant. Dr. Staines saw one of his bestKentish patients get feebly out of his carriage, and call on Dr. Barr. He started, and stopped. Rosa asked what was the matter. He told her. She said, "We ARE unfortunate. "

Staines said nothing; he only quickened his pace; but he was greatlydisturbed. She expected him to complain that she had dragged him out, and lost him that first chance. But he said nothing. When they got home, he asked the servant had anybody called. 

"No, Sir. "

"Surely you are mistaken, Jane. A gentleman in a carriage!"

"Not a creature have been since you went out, sir. "

"Well, then, dearest, " said he sweetly, "we have nothing to reproachourselves with. " Then he knit his brow gloomily. "It is worse than Ithought. It seems even one's country patients go to another doctor whenthey visit London. It is hard. It is hard. "

Rosa leaned her head on his shoulder, and curled round him, as one shewould shield against the world's injustice; but she said nothing; shewas a little frightened at his eye that lowered, and his noble framethat trembled a little, with ire suppressed. 

Two days after this, a brougham drove up to the door, and a tallish, fattish, pasty-faced man got out, and inquired for Dr. Staines. 

He was shown into the dining-room, and told Jane he had come to consultthe doctor. 

Rosa had peeped over the stairs, all curiosity; she glided noiselesslydown, and with love's swift foot got into the yard before Jane. "He iscome! he is come! Kiss me. "

Dr. Staines kissed her first, and then asked who was come. 

"Oh, nobody of any consequence. ONLY the first patient. Kiss me again. "

Dr. Staines kissed her again, and then was for going to the firstpatient. 

"No, " said she; "not yet. I met a doctor's wife at Dr. Mayne's, and shetold me things. You must always keep them waiting; or else they thinknothing of you. Such a funny woman! 'Treat 'em like dogs, my dear, ' shesaid. But I told her they wouldn't come to be treated like dogs or anyother animal. "

"You had better have kept that to yourself, I think. "

"Oh! if you are going to be disagreeable, good-by. You can go to yourpatient, sir. Christie, dear, if he is very--very ill--and I'm sure Ihope he is--oh, how wicked I am; may I have a new bonnet?"

"If you really want one. "

On the patient's card was "Mr. Pettigrew, 47 Manchester Square. "

As soon as Staines entered the room, the first patient told him who andwhat he was, a retired civilian from India; but he had got a son therestill, a very rising man; wanted to be a parson; but he would notstand that; bad profession; don't rise by merit; very hard to rise atall;--no, India was the place. "As for me, I made my fortune there inten years. Obliged to leave it now--invalid this many years; no TONE. Tried two or three doctors in this neighborhood; heard there was a newone, had written a book on something. Thought I would try HIM. "

To stop him, Staines requested to feel his pulse, and examine his tongueand eye. 

"You are suffering from indigestion, " said he. "I will write you aprescription; but if you want to get well, you must simplify your dietvery much. "

While he was writing the prescription, off went this patient's tongue, and ran through the topics of the day and into his family history again. 

Staines listened politely. He could afford it, having only this one. 

At last, the first patient, having delivered an octavo volume ofnothing, rose to go; but it seems that speaking an "infinite deal ofnothing" exhausts the body, though it does not affect the mind; for thefirst patient sank down in his chair again. "I have excited myself toomuch--feel rather faint. "

Staines saw no signs of coming syncope; he rang the bell quietly, andordered a decanter of sherry to be brought; the first patient filledhimself a glass; then another; and went off, revived, to chatterelsewhere. But at the door he said, "I had always a running account withDr. Mivar. I suppose you don't object to that system. Double fee thefirst visit, single afterwards. "

Dr. Staines bowed a little stiffly; he would have preferred the money. However, he looked at the Blue Book, and found his visitor lived at 47Manchester Square; so that removed his anxiety. 

The first patient called every other day, chattered nineteen to thedozen, was exhausted, drank two glasses of sherry, and drove away. 

Soon after this a second patient called. This one was a deputypatient--Collett, a retired butler--kept a lodging-house, and waited atparties; he lived close by, but had a married daughter in Chelsea. Wouldthe doctor visit her, and HE would be responsible?

Staines paid the woman a visit or two, and treated her so effectually, that soon her visits were paid to him. She was cured, and Staines, whoby this time wanted to see money, sent to Collett. 

Collett did not answer. 

Staines wrote warmly. 

Collett dead silent. 

Staines employed a solicitor. 

Collett said he had recommended the patient, that was all. He had neversaid he would pay her debts. That was her husband's business. 

Now her husband was the mate of a ship; would not be in England foreighteen months. 

The woman, visited by lawyer's clerk, cried bitterly, and said she andher children had scarcely enough to eat. 

Lawyer advised Staines to abandon the case, and pay him two poundsfifteen shillings expenses. He did so. 

"This is damnable, " said he. "I must get it out of Pettigrew; by-the-by, he has not been here this two days. "

He waited another day for Pettigrew, and then wrote to him. No answer. Called. Pettigrew gone abroad. House in Manchester Square to let. 

Staines went to the house-agent with his tale. Agent was impenetrableat first; but, at last, won by the doctor's manner and his unhappiness, referred him to Pettigrew's solicitor; the solicitor was a respectableman, and said he would forward the claim to Pettigrew in Paris. 

But by this time Pettigrew was chattering and guzzling in Berlin; andthence he got to St. Petersburg. In that stronghold of gluttony, he gormandized more than ever, and, being unable to talk it off hisstomach, as in other cities, had apoplexy, and died. 

But long before this Staines saw his money was as irrecoverable as hissherry; and he said to Rosa, "I wonder whether I shall ever live tocurse the human race?"

"Heaven forbid!" said Rosa. "Oh, they use you cruelly, my poor, poorChristie!"

Thus for months the young doctor's patients bled him, and that was all. 

And Rosa got more and more moped at being in the house so much, andpestered Christopher to take her out, and he declined: and, being a manhard to beat, took to writing on medical subjects, in hopes of gettingsome money from the various medical and scientific publications; but hefound it as hard to get the wedge in there as to get patients. 

At last Rosa's remonstrances began to rise into something thatsounded like reproaches. One Sunday she came to him in her bonnet, andinterrupted his studies, to say he might as well lay down the pen, andtalk. Nobody would publish anything he wrote. 

Christopher frowned, but contained himself, and laid down the pen. 

"I might as well not be married at all as be a doctor's wife. You arenever seen out with me, not even to church. Do behave like a Christian, and come to church with me now. "

Dr. Staines shook his head. 

"Why, I wouldn't miss church for all the world. Any excitement is betterthan always moping. Come over the water with me. The time Jane and Iwent, the clergyman read a paper that Mr. Brown had fallen down in afit. There was such a rush directly, and I'm sure fifty ladies wentout--fancy, all Mrs. Browns! Wasn't that fun?"

"Fun? I don't see it. Well, Rosa, your mind is evidently better adaptedto diversion than mine is. Go you to church, love, and I'll continue mystudies. "

"Then all I can say is, I wish I was back in my father's house. Husband!friend! companion!--I have none. "

Then she burst out crying violently; and, being shocked at what she hadsaid, and at the agony it had brought into her husband's face, she wentoff into hysterics; and as his heart would not let him bellow at her, or empty a bucket on her as he would on another patient, she had a goodlong bout of them: and got her way, for she broke up his studies forthat day, at all events. 

Even after the hysterics were got under, she continued to moan and sighvery prettily, with her lovely, languid head pillowed on her husband'sarm; in a word, though the hysterics were real, yet this innocent youngperson had the presence of mind to postpone entire convalescence, andlay herself out to be petted all day. But fate willed it otherwise:while she was sighing and moaning, came to the door a scurrying of feet, and then a sharp, persistent ringing that meant something. The moanercocked eye and ear, and said, in her every-day voice, which, coming sosuddenly, sounded very droll, "What is that, I wonder?"

Jane hurried to the street-door, and Rosa recovered by magic; and, preferring gossip to hysterics, in an almost gleeful whisper, orderedChristopher to open the door of the study. The Bijou was so small thatthe following dialogue rang in their ears:--

A boy in buttons gasped out, "Oh, if you please, will you ast the doctorto come round directly; there's a haccident. "

"La, bless me!" said Jane, and never budged. 

"Yes, miss. It's our missus's little girl fallen right off an i-chair, and cut her head dreadful, and smothered in blood. "

"La, to be sure!" And she waited steadily for more. 

"Ay, and missus she fainted right off; and I've been to the reglerdoctor, which he's out; and Sarah, the housemaid, said I had better comehere; you was only just set up, she said; you wouldn't have so much todo, says she. "

"That is all SHE knows, " said Jane. "Why, our master--they pulls him inpieces which is to have him fust. "

"What an awful liar! Oh, you good girl!" whispered Dr. Staines and Rosain one breath. 

"Ah, well, " said Buttons, "any way, Sarah says she knows you are clever, 'cos her little girl as lives with her mother, and calls Sarah aunt, hasbin to your 'spensary with ringworm, and you cured her right off. "

"Ay, and a good many more, " said Jane, loftily. She was a housemaid ofimagination; and while Staines was putting some lint and an instrumentcase into his pocket, she proceeded to relate a number of miraculouscures. Dr. Staines interrupted them by suddenly emerging, and invitingButtons to take him to the house. 

Mrs. Staines was so pleased with Jane for cracking up the doctor, thatshe gave her five shillings; and, after that, used to talk to her agreat deal more than to the cook, which judicious conduct presently setall three by the ears. 

Buttons took the doctor to a fine house in the same street, and toldhim his mistress's name on the way--Mrs. Lucas. He was taken up to thenursery, and found Mrs. Lucas seated, crying and lamenting, and a womanholding a little girl of about seven, whose brow had been cut open bythe fender, on which she had fallen from a chair; it looked very ugly, and was even now bleeding. 

Dr. Staines lost no time; he examined the wound keenly, and then saidkindly to Mrs. Lucas, "I am happy to tell you it is not serious. " Hethen asked for a large basin and some tepid water, and bathed it sosoftly and soothingly that the child soon became composed; and themother discovered the artist at once. He compressed the wound, andexplained to Mrs. Lucas that the principal thing really was to avoid anugly scar. "There is no danger, " said he. He then bound the woundneatly up, and had the girl put to bed. "You will not wake her at anyparticular hour, nurse. Let her sleep. Have a little strong beef-teaready, and give it her at any hour, night or day, she asks for it. Butdo not force it on her, or you will do her more harm than good. She hadbetter sleep before she eats. "

Mrs. Lucas begged him to come every morning; and, as he was going, she shook hands with him, and the soft palm deposited a hard substancewrapped in paper. He took it with professional gravity and seemingunconsciousness; but, once outside the house, went home on wings. Heran up to the drawing-room, and found his wife seated, and playing atreading. He threw himself on his knees, and the fee into her lap; and, while she unfolded the paper with an ejaculation of pleasure, he said, "Darling, the first real patient--the first real fee. It is yours to buythe new bonnet. "

"Oh, I'm so glad!" said she, with her eyes glistening. "But I'm afraidone can't get a bonnet fit to wear--for a guinea. "

Dr. Staines visited his little patient every day, and received hisguinea. Mrs. Lucas also called him in for her own little ailments, andthey were the best possible kind of ailments: for, being imaginary, there was no limit to them. 

Then did Mrs. Staines turn jealous of her husband. "They never ask me, "said she; "and I am moped to death. "

"It is hard, " said Christopher, sadly. "But have a little patience. Society will come to you long before practice comes to me. "

About two o'clock one afternoon a carriage and pair drove up, and agorgeous footman delivered a card--"Lady Cicely Treherne. "

Of course Mrs. Staines was at home, and only withheld by proprietyfrom bounding into the passage to meet her school-fellow. However, shecomposed herself in the drawing-room, and presently the door was opened, and a very tall young woman, richly but not gayly dressed, drifted intothe room, and stood there a statue of composure. 

Rosa had risen to fly to her; but the reverence a girl of eighteenstrikes into a child of twelve hung about her still, and she cametimidly forward, blushing and sparkling, a curious contrast in colorand mind to her visitor; for Lady Cicely was Languor in person--her hairwhitey-brown, her face a fine oval, but almost colorless; her eyesa pale gray, her neck and hands incomparably white and beautiful--alymphatic young lady, a live antidote to emotion. However, Rosa'sbeauty, timidity, and undisguised affectionateness were something sodifferent from what she was used to in the world of fashion, that sheactually smiled, and held out both her hands a little way. Rosa seizedthem, and pressed them; they left her; and remained passive and limp. 

"O Lady Cicely, " said Rosa, "how kind of you to come. "

"How kind of you to send to me, " was the polite, but perfectly coolreply. "But how you are gwown, and--may I say impwoved?--You la petiteLusignan! It is incwedible, " lisped her ladyship, very calmly. 

"I was only a child, " said Rosa. "You were always so beautiful and tall, and kind to a little monkey like me. Oh, pray sit down, Lady Cicely, andtalk of old times. "

She drew her gently to the sofa, and they sat down hand in hand; butLady Cicely's high-bred reserve made her a very poor gossip aboutanything that touched herself and her family; so Rosa, though noegotist, was drawn into talking about herself more than she would havedone had she deliberately planned the conversation. But here was an oldschool-fellow, and a singularly polite listener, and so out came herlove, her genuine happiness, her particular griefs, and especially thecrowning grievance, no society, moped to death, etc. 

Lady Cicely could hardly understand the sentiment in a woman who soevidently loved her husband. "Society!" said she, after due reflection, "why, it is a boa. " (And here I may as well explain that Lady Cicelyspoke certain words falsely, and others affectedly; and as for theletter r, she could say it if she made a hearty effort, but wasgenerally too lazy to throw her leg over it. ) "Society! I'm dwenchedto death with it. If I could only catch fiah like other women, andlove somebody, I would much rather have a tete-a-tete with him thango teawing about all day and all night, from one unintwisting cwowdto another. To be sure, " said she, puzzling the matter out, "you are abeauty, and would be more looked at. "

"The idea! and--oh no! no! it is not that. But even in the country wehad always some society. "

"Well, dyar, believe me, with your appeawance, you can have as muchsociety as you please; but it will boa you to death, as it does me, andthen you will long to be left quiet with a sensible man who loves you. "

Said Rosa, "When shall I have another tete-a-tete with YOU, I wonder?Oh, it has been such a comfort to me. Bless you for coming. There--Iwrote to Cecilia, and Emily, and Mrs. Bosanquet that is now, and all mysworn friends, and to think of you being the one to come--you that neverkissed me but once, and an earl's daughter into the bargain. "

"Ha! ha! ha!"--Lady Cicely actually laughed for once in a way, and didnot feel the effort. "As for kissing, " said she, "if I fall shawt, fawgive me. I was nevaa vewy demonstwative. "

"No; and I have had a lesson. That Florence Cole--Florence Whiting thatwas, you know--was always kissing me, and she has turned out a traitor. I'll tell you all about her. " And she did. 

Lady Cicely thought Mrs. Staines a little too unreserved in herconversation; but was so charmed with her sweetness and freshness thatshe kept up the acquaintance, and called on her twice a week during theseason. At first she wondered that her visits were not returned; butRosa let out that she was ashamed to call on foot in Grosvenor Square. 

Lady Cicely shrugged her beautiful shoulders a little at that; but shecontinued to do the visiting, and to enjoy the simple, innocent rapturewith which she was received. 

This lady's pronunciation of many words was false or affected. Shesaid "good murning" for "good morning, " and turned other vowels todiphthongs, and played two or three pranks with her "r's. " But we cannotbe all imperfection: with her pronunciation her folly came to a fullstop. I really believe she lisped less nonsense and bad taste in a yearthan some of us articulate in a day. To be sure, folly is generallyuttered in a hurry, and she was too deplorably lazy to speak fast on anyoccasion whatever. 

One day Mrs. Staines took her up-stairs, and showed her from the backwindow her husband pacing the yard, waiting for patients. Lady Cicelyfolded her arms, and contemplated him at first with a sort of zoologicalcuriosity. Gentleman pacing back yard, like hyena, she had never seenbefore. 

At last she opened her mouth in a whisper, "What is he doing?"

"Waiting for patients. "

"Oh! Waiting--for--patients?"

"For patients that never come, and never will come. "

"Cuwious! How little I know of life. "

"It is that all day, dear, or else writing. "

Lady Cicely, with her eyes fixed on Staines, made a motion with her handthat she was attending. 

"And they won't publish a word he writes. "

"Poor man!"

"Nice for me; is it not?"

"I begin to understand, " said Lady Cicely quietly; and soon afterretired with her invariable composure. 

Meantime, Dr. Staines, like a good husband, had thrown out occasionalhints to Mrs. Lucas that he had a wife, beautiful, accomplished, moped. More than that, he went so far as to regret to her that Mrs. Staines, being in a neighborhood new to him, saw so little society; the more so, as she was formed to shine, and had not been used to seclusion. 

All these hints fell dead on Mrs. Lucas. A handsome and skilful doctorwas welcome to her: his wife--that was quite another matter. 

But one day Mrs. Lucas saw Lady Cicely Treherne's carriage standing atthe door. The style of the whole turnout impressed her. She wonderedwhose it was. 

On another occasion she saw it drive up, and the lady get out. Sherecognized her; and the very next day this parvenue said adroitly, "Now, Dr. Staines, really you can't be allowed to hide your wife in this way. (Staines stared. ) Why not introduce her to me next Wednesday? It is mynight. I would give a dinner expressly for her; but I don't like to dothat while my husband is in Naples. "

When Staines carried the invitation to his wife, she was delighted, andkissed him with childish frankness. 

But the very next moment she became thoughtful, uneasy, depressed. "Oh, dear; I've nothing to wear. "

"Oh, nonsense, Rosa. Your wedding outfit. "

"The idea! I can't go as a bride. It's not a masquerade. "

"But you have other dresses. "

"All gone by, more or less; or not fit for such parties as SHE gives. Ahundred carriages!"

"Bring them down, and let me see them. "

"Oh yes. " And the lady, who had nothing to wear, paraded a very fairshow of dresses. 

Staines saw something to admire in all of them. Mrs. Staines found moreto object to in each. 

At last he fell upon a silver-gray silk, of superlative quality. 

"That! It is as old as the hills, " shrieked Rosa. 

"It looks just out of the shop. Come, tell the truth; how often have youworn it?"

"I wore it before I was married. "

"Ay, but how often?"

"Twice. Three times, I believe. "

"I thought so. It is good as new. "

"But I have had it so long by me. I had it two years before I made itup. "

"What does that matter? Do you think the people can tell how long adress has been lurking in your wardrobe? This is childish, Rosa. There, with this dress as good as new, and your beauty, you will be as muchadmired, and perhaps hated, as your heart can desire. "

"I am afraid not, " said Rosa naively. "Oh, how I wish I had known a weekago. "

"I am very thankful you did not, " said Staines dryly. 

At ten o'clock Mrs. Staines was nearly dressed; at a quarter past tenshe demanded ten minutes; at half-past ten she sought a reprieve; at aquarter to eleven, being assured that the street was full of carriages, which had put down at Mrs. Lucas's, she consented to emerge; and in aminute they were at the house. 

They were shown first into a cloak-room, and then into a tea-room, andthen mounted the stairs. One servant took their names, and bawled themto another four yards off, he to another about as near, and so on; andthey edged themselves into the room, not yet too crowded to move in. 

They had not taken many steps, on the chance of finding their hostess, when a slight buzz arose, and seemed to follow them. 

Rosa wondered what that was; but only for a moment; she observed a tall, stout, aquiline woman fix an eye of bitter, diabolical, malignant hatredon her; and as she advanced, ugly noses were cocked disdainfully, andscraggy shoulders elevated at the risk of sending the bones through theleather, and a titter or two shot after her. A woman's instinct gave herthe key at once; the sexes had complimented her at sight; each intheir way; the men with respectful admiration; the women, with theirinflammable jealousy and ready hatred in another of the quality theyvalue most in themselves. But the country girl was too many for them:she would neither see nor bear, but moved sedately on, and calmlycrushed them with her Southern beauty. Their dry, powdered faces couldnot live by the side of her glowing skin, with nature's delicate glossupon it, and the rich blood mantling below it. The got-up beauties, i. E. , the majority, seemed literally to fade and wither as she passed. 

Mrs. Lucas got to her, suppressed a slight maternal pang, havingdaughters to marry, and took her line in a moment; here was a decoyduck. Mrs. Lucas was all graciousness, made acquaintance, and took alittle turn with her, introducing her to one or two persons; among therest, to the malignant woman, Mrs. Barr. Mrs. Barr, on this, ceased tolook daggers and substituted icicles; but on the hateful beauty movingaway, dropped the icicles, and resumed the poniards. 

The rooms filled; the heat became oppressive, and the mixed odors offlowers, scents, and perspiring humanity, sickening. Some, unable tobear it, trickled out of the room, and sat all down the stairs. 

Rosa began to feel faint. Up came a tall, sprightly girl, whose pertnesswas redeemed by a certain bonhomie, and said, "Mrs. Staines, Ibelieve? I am to make myself agreeable to you. That is the order fromheadquarters. "

"Miss Lucas, " said Staines. 

She jerked a little off-hand bow to him, and said, "Will you trust herto me for five minutes?"

"Certainly. " But he did not much like it. 

Miss Lucas carried her off, and told Dr. Staines, over her shoulder, nowhe could flirt to his heart's content. 

"Thank you, " said he dryly. "I'll await your return. "

"Oh, there are some much greater flirts here than I am, " said the readyMiss Lucas; and whispering something in Mrs. Staines's ear, suddenlyglided with her behind a curtain, pressed a sort of button fixed to alooking-glass door. The door opened, and behold they were in a deliciousplace, for which I can hardly find a word, since it was a boudoir anda conservatory in one: a large octagon, the walls lined from floor toceiling with looking-glasses of moderate width, at intervals, and withcreepers that covered the intervening spaces of the wall, and weretrained so as to break the outline of the glasses without greatlyclouding the reflection. Ferns, in great variety, were grouped in adeep crescent, and in the bight of this green bay were a small tableand chairs. As there were no hot-house plants, the temperature was verycool, compared with the reeking oven they had escaped; and a littlefountain bubbled, and fed a little meandering gutter that trickled awayamong the ferns; it ran crystal clear over little bright pebbles andshells. It did not always run, you understand; but Miss Lucas turned asecret tap, and started it. 

"Oh, how heavenly!" said Rosa, with a sigh of relief; "and how good ofyou to bring me here!"

"Yes; by rights I ought to have waited till you fainted. But there is nomaking acquaintance among all those people. Mamma will ask such crowds;one is like a fly in a glue-pot. "

Miss Lucas had good nature, smartness, and animal spirits; hence arosea vivacity and fluency that were often amusing, and passed for veryclever. Reserve she had none; would talk about strangers, or friends, herself, her mother, her God, and the last buffoon-singer, in a breath. At a hint from Rosa, she told her who the lady in the pink dress was, and the lady in the violet velvet, and so on; for each lady was definedby her dress, and, more or less, quizzed by this show-woman, not exactlyout of malice, but because it is smarter and more natural to decry thanto praise, and a little medisance is the spice to gossip, belongs to it, as mint sauce to lamb. So they chatted away, and were pleased witheach other, and made friends, and there, in cool grot, quite forgotthe sufferings of their fellow-creatures in the adjacent Turkish bath, yclept society. It was Rosa who first recollected herself. "Will notMrs. Lucas be angry with me, if I keep you all to myself?"

"Oh no; but I'm afraid we must go into the hot-house again. I like thegreenhouse best, with such a nice companion. "

They slipped noiselessly into the throng again, and wriggled about, MissLucas presenting her new friend to several ladies and gentlemen. 

Presently Staines found them, and then Miss Lucas wriggled away; and indue course the room was thinned by many guests driving off home, or toballs, and other receptions, and Dr. Staines and Mrs. Staines went hometo the Bijou. Here the physician prescribed bed; but the lady would nothear of such a thing until she had talked it all over. So they comparednotes, and Rosa told him how well she had got on with Miss Lucas, andmade a friendship. "But for that, " said she, "I should be sorry I wentamong those people, such a dowdy. "

"Dowdy!" said Staines. "Why, you stormed the town; you were the greatsuccess of the night, and, for all I know, of the season. " The wretchdelivered this with unbecoming indifference. 

"It is too bad to mock me, Christie. Where were your eyes?"

"To the best of my recollection, they were one on each side of my nose. "

"Yes, but some people are eyes and no eyes. "

"I scorn the imputation; try me. "

"Very well. Then did you see that lady in sky-blue silk, embroideredwith flowers, and flounced with white velvet, and the corsage pointlace; and oh, such emeralds?"

"I did; a tall, skinny woman, with eyes resembling her jewels in color, though not in brightness. "

"Never mind her eyes; it is her dress I am speaking of. Exquisite; andwhat a coiffure! Well, did you see HER in the black velvet, trimmed sodeep with Chantilly lace, wave on wave, and her head-dress of crimsonflowers, and such a riviere of diamonds; oh, dear! oh, dear!"

"I did, love. The room was an oven, but her rubicund face andsuffocating costume made it seem a furnace. "

"Stuff! Well, did you see the lady in the corn-colored silk, and poppiesin her hair?"

"Of course I did. Ceres in person. She made me feel hot, too; but Icooled myself a bit at her pale, sickly face. "

"Never mind their faces; that is not the point. "

"Oh, excuse me; it is always a point with us benighted males, all eyesand no eyes. "

"Well, then, the lady in white, with cherry-velvet bands, and a whitetunic looped with crimson, and headdress of white illusion, a la vierge, I think they call it. "

"It was very refreshing; and adapted to that awful atmosphere. It wasthe nearest approach to nudity I ever saw, even amongst fashionablepeople. "

"It was lovely; and then that superb figure in white illusion and gold, with all those narrow flounces over her slip of white silk glacee, and awreath of white flowers, with gold wheat ears amongst them, in her hair;and oh! oh! oh! her pearls, oriental, and as big as almonds!"

"And oh! oh! oh! her nose! reddish, and as long as a woodcock's. "

"Noses! noses! stupid! That is not what strikes you first in a womandressed like an angel. "

"Well, if you were to run up against that one, as I nearly did, her noseWOULD be the thing that would strike you first. Nose! it was a rostrum!the spear-head of Goliah. "

"Now, don't, Christopher. This is no laughing matter. Do you mean youwere not ashamed of your wife? I was. "

"No, I was not; you had but one rival; a very young lady, wisebefore her age; a blonde, with violet eyes. She was dressed in lightmauve-colored silk, without a single flounce, or any other tomfooleryto fritter away the sheen and color of an exquisite material; her sunnyhair was another wave of color, wreathed with a thin line of whitejessamine flowers closely woven, that scented the air. This girl was themoon of that assembly, and you were the sun. "

"I never even saw her. "

"Eyes and no eyes. She saw you, and said, 'Oh, what a beautifulcreature!' for I heard her. As for the old stagers, whom you admire so, their faces were all clogged with powder, the pores stopped up, the truetexture of the skin abolished. They looked downright nasty, wheneveryou or that young girl passed by them. Then it was you saw to what afrightful extent women are got up in our day, even young women, andrespectable women. No, Rosa, dress can do little for you; you havebeauty--real beauty. "

"Beauty! That passes unnoticed, unless one is well dressed. "

"Then what an obscure pair the Apollo Belvidere and the Venus de Medicismust be. "

"Oh! they are dressed--in marble. "

Christopher Staines stared first, then smiled. 

"Well done, " said he, admiringly. "That IS a knockdown blow. So now youhave silenced your husband, go you to bed directly. I can't afford youdiamonds; so I will take care of that little insignificant trifle, yourbeauty. "

Mrs. Staines and Mrs. Lucas exchanged calls, and soon Mrs. Staines couldno longer complain she was out of the world. Mrs. Lucas invited her toevery party, because her beauty was an instrument of attraction she knewhow to use; and Miss Lucas took a downright fancy to her; drove her inthe park, and on Sundays to the Zoological Gardens, just beginning to befashionable. 

The Lucases rented a box at the opera, and if it was not let at thelibrary by six o'clock, and if other engagements permitted, word wassent round to Mrs. Staines, as a matter of course, and she was taken tothe opera. She began almost to live at the Lucases, and to be oftenerfatigued than moped. 

The usual order of things was inverted; the maiden lady educated thematron; for Miss Lucas knew all about everybody in the Park, honorableor dishonorable; all the scandals, and all the flirtations; and whatevershe knew, she related point-blank. Being as inquisitive as voluble, shesoon learned how Mrs. Staines and her husband were situated. She tookupon her to advise her in many things, and especially impressed uponher that Dr. Staines must keep a carriage, if he wanted to get on inmedicine. The piece of advice accorded so well with Rosa's wishes, thatshe urged it on her husband again and again. 

He objected that no money was coming in, and therefore it would beinsane to add to their expenses. Rosa persisted, and at last worriedStaines with her importunity. He began to give rather short answers. Then she quoted Miss Lucas against him. He treated the authority withmarked contempt; and then Rosa fired up a little. Then Staines held hispeace; but did not buy a carriage to visit his no patients. 

So at last Rosa complained to Lady Cicely Treherne, and made her thejudge between her husband and herself. Lady Cicely drawled out a promptbut polite refusal to play that part. All that could be elicited fromher, and that with difficulty, was, "Why quall with your husband about acawwige; he is your best fwiend. "

"Ah, that he is, " said Rosa; "but Miss Lucas is a good friend, and sheknows the world. We don't; neither Christopher nor I. "

So she continued to nag at her husband about it, and to say that he wasthrowing his only chance away. 

Galled as he was by neglect, this was irritating, and at last he couldnot help telling her she was unreasonable. "You live a gay life, and Ia sad one. I consent to this, and let you go about with these Lucases, because you were so dull; but you should not consult them in our privateaffairs. Their interference is indelicate and improper. I will not setup a carriage till I have patients to visit. I am sick of seeing ourcapital dwindle, and no income created. I will never set up a carriagetill I have taken a hundred-guinea fee. "

"Oh! Then we shall go splashing through the mud all our days. "

"Or ride in a cab, " said Christopher, with a quiet doggedness that leftno hope of his yielding. 

One afternoon Miss Lucas called for Mrs. Staines to drive in the Park, but did not come up-stairs; it was an engagement, and she knew Mrs. Staines would be ready, or nearly. Mrs. Staines, not to keep herwaiting, came down rather hastily, and in the very passage whipped outof her pocket a little glass, and a little powder puff, and puffed herface all over in a trice. She was then going out; but her husband calledher into the study. "Rosa, my dear, " said he, "you were going out with adirty face. "

"Oh!" cried she, "give me a glass. "

"There is no need of that. All you want is a basin and some nicerain-water. I keep a little reservoir of it. "

He then handed her the same with great politeness. She looked in hiseye, and saw he was not to be trifled with. She complied like a lamb, and the heavenly color and velvet gloss that resulted were admirable. 

He kissed her and said, "Ah! now you are my Rosa again. Oblige me byhanding over that powder-puff to me. " She looked vexed, but complied. "When you come back I will tell you why. "

"You are a pest, " said Mrs. Staines, and so joined her friend, rosy withrain-water and a rub. 

"Dear me, how handsome you look to-day!" was Miss Lucas's first remark. 

Rosa never dreamed that rain-water and rub could be the cause of herlooking so well. 

"It is my tiresome husband, " said she. "He objects to powder, and he hastaken away my puff. "

"And you stood that?"

"Obliged to. "

"Why, you poor-spirited little creature, I should like to see a husbandpresume to interfere with me in those things. Here, take mine. "

Rosa hesitated a little. "Well--no--I think not. "

Miss Lucas laughed at her, and quizzed her so on her allowing a man tointerfere in such sacred things as dress and cosmetics, that she cameback irritated with her husband, and gave him a short answer or two. Then he asked what was the matter. 

"You treat me like a child--taking away my very puff. "

"I treat you like a beautiful flower, that no bad gardener shall witherwhilst I am here. "

"What nonsense! How could that wither me? It is only violet powder--whatthey put on babies. "

"And who are the Herods that put it on babies?"

"Their own mothers, that love them ten times more than the fathers do. "

"And kill a hundred of them for one a man ever kills. Mothers!--the mostwholesale homicides in the nation. We will examine your violet-powder:bring it down here. "

While she was gone he sent for a breakfast-cupful of flour, and when shecame back he had his scales out, and begged her to put a teaspoonful offlour into one scale and of violet powder into another. The flour kickedthe beam, as Homer expresses himself. 

"Put another spoonful of flour. "

The one spoonful of violet powder outweighed the two of flour. 

"Now, " said Staines, "does not that show you the presence of a mineralin your vegetable powder? I suppose they tell you it is made of whiteviolets dried, and triturated in a diamond mill. Let us find out whatmetal it is. We need not go very deep into chemistry for that. " Hethen applied a simple test, and detected the presence of lead in largequantities. Then he lectured her: "Invisible perspiration is a processof nature necessary to health and to life. The skin is made porous forthat purpose. You can kill anybody in an hour or two by closing thepores. A certain infallible ass, called Pope Leo XII. , killed a littleboy in two hours, by gilding him to adorn the pageant of his firstprocession as Pope. But what is death to the whole body must beinjurious to a part. What madness, then, to clog the pores of solarge and important a surface as the face, and check the invisibleperspiration: how much more to insert lead into your system every dayof your life; a cumulative poison, and one so deadly and so subtle, thatthe Sheffield file-cutters die in their prime, from merely hammering ona leaden anvil. And what do you gain by this suicidal habit? No plum hasa sweeter bloom or more delicious texture than the skin of youryoung face; but this mineral filth hides that delicate texture, andsubstitutes a dry, uniform appearance, more like a certain kind ofleprosy than health. Nature made your face the rival of peaches, roses, lilies; and you say, 'No; I know better than my Creator and my God; myface shall be like a dusty miller's. ' Go into any flour-mill, and thereyou shall see men with faces exactly like your friend Miss Lucas's. Butbefore a miller goes to his sweetheart, he always washes his face. Youladies would never get a miller down to your level in brains. It is amiller's DIRTY face our mono-maniacs of woman imitate, not the face amiller goes a-courting with. "

"La! what a fuss about nothing!"

"About nothing! Is your health nothing? Is your beauty nothing? Well, then, it will cost you nothing to promise me never to put powder on yourface again. "

"Very well, I promise. Now what will you do for me?"

"Work for you--write for you--suffer for you--be self-denying foryou--and even give myself the pain of disappointing you now andthen--looking forward to the time when I shall be able to say 'Yes' toeverything you ask me. Ah! child, you little know what it costs me tosay 'No' to YOU. "

Rosa put her arms round him and acquiesced. She was one of those whogo with the last speaker; but, for that very reason, the eternalcompanionship of so flighty and flirty a girl as Miss Lucas wasinjurious to her. 

One day Lady Cicely Treherne was sitting with Mrs. Staines, smilinglanguidly at her talk, and occasionally drawling out a little plain goodsense, when in came Miss Lucas, with her tongue well hung, as usual, anddashed into twenty topics in ten minutes. 

This young lady in her discourse was like those little oily beetles yousee in small ponds, whose whole life is spent in tacking--confound themfor it!--generally at right angles. What they are in navigation was MissLucas in conversation: tacked so eternally from topic to topic, that noman on earth, and not every woman, could follow her. 

At the sight and sound of her, Lady Cicely congealed and stiffened. Easy and unpretending with Mrs. Staines, she was all dignity, and evenmajesty, in the presence of this chatterbox; and the smoothness withwhich the transfiguration was accomplished marked that accomplishedactress the high-bred woman of the world. 

Rosa, better able to estimate the change of manner than Miss Lucas was, who did not know how little this Sawny was afflicted with misplaceddignity, looked wistfully and distressed at her. Lady Cicelysmiled kindly in reply, rose, without seeming to hurry, --catch hercondescending to be rude to Charlotte Lucas, --and took her departure, with a profound and most gracious courtesy to the lady who had drivenher away. 

Mrs. Staines saw her down-stairs, and said, ruefully, "I am afraidyou do not like my friend Miss Lucas. She is a great rattle, but sogood-natured and clever. "

Lady Cicely shook her head. "Clevaa people don't talk so much nonsensebefore strangaas. "

"Oh, dear!" said Rosa. "I was in hopes you would like her. "

"Do YOU like her?"

"Indeed I do; but I shall not, if she drives an older friend away. "

"My dyah, I'm not easily dwiven from those I esteem. But you undastandthat is not a woman for me to mispwonownce my 'ah's befaw--NOR FOR YOUTO MAKE A BOSOM FWIEND OF--WOSA STAINES. "

She said this with a sudden maternal solemnity and kindness thatcontrasted nobly and strangely with her yea-nay style, and Mrs. Stainesremembered the words years after they were spoken. 

It so happened that after this Mrs. Staines received no more visits fromLady Cicely for some time, and that vexed her. She knew her sex enoughto be aware that they are very jealous, and she permitted herself tothink that this high-minded Sawny was jealous of Miss Lucas. 

This idea, founded on a general estimate of her sex, was dispelled by afew lines from Lady Cicely, to say her family and herself were in deepdistress; her brother, Lord Ayscough, lay dying from an accident. 

Then Rosa was all remorse, and ran down to Staines to tell him. Shefound him with an open letter in his hand. It was from Dr. Barr, andon the same subject. The doctor, who had always been friendly to him, invited him to come down at once to Hallowtree Hall, in Huntingdonshire, to a consultation. There was a friendly intimation to start at once, asthe patient might die any moment. 

Husband and wife embraced each other in a tumult of surprisedthankfulness. A few necessaries were thrown into a carpet-bag, andDr. Staines was soon whirled into Huntingdonshire. Having telegraphedbeforehand, he was met at the station by the earl's carriage and people, and driven to the Hall. He was received by an old, silver-haired butler, looking very sad, who conducted him to a boudoir; and then went andtapped gently at the door of the patient's room. It was opened and shutvery softly, and Lady Cicely, dressed in black, and looking paler thanever, came into the room. 

"Dr. Staines, I think?"

He bowed. 

"Thank you for coming so promptly. Dr. Barr is gone. I fear hethinks--he thinks--O Dr. Staines--no sign of life but in his poor hands, that keep moving night and day. "

Staines looked very grave at that. Lady Cicely observed it, and, faintat heart, could say no more, but led the way to the sick-room. 

There in a spacious chamber, lighted by a grand oriel window and twoside windows, lay rank, title, wealth, and youth, stricken down in amoment by a common accident. The sufferer's face was bloodless, his eyesfixed, and no signs of life but in his thumbs, and they kept workingwith strange regularity. 

In the room were a nurse and the surgeon; the neighboring physician, whohad called in Dr. Barr, had just paid his visit and gone away. 

Lady Cicely introduced Dr. Staines and Mr. White, and then Dr. Stainesstood and fixed his eyes on the patient in profound silence. LadyCicely scanned his countenance searchingly, and was struck with theextraordinary power and intensity it assumed in examining the patient;but the result was not encouraging. Dr. Staines looked grave and gloomy. 

At last, without removing his eye from the recumbent figure, he saidquietly to Mr. White, "Thrown from his horse, sir. "

"Horse fell on him, Dr. Staines. "

"Any visible injuries?"

"Yes. Severe contusions, and a rib broken and pressed upon the lungs. Ireplaced and set it. Will you see?"

"If you please. "

He examined and felt the patient, and said it had been ably done. 

Then he was silent and searching. 

At last he spoke again. "The motion of the thumbs corresponds exactlywith his pulse. "

"Is that so, sir?"

"It is. The case is without a parallel. How long has he been so?"

"Nearly a week. "

"Impossible!"

"It is so, sir. "

Lady Cicely confirmed this. 

"All the better, " said Dr. Staines upon reflection. "Well, sir, " saidhe, "the visible injuries having been ably relieved, I shall lookanother way for the cause. " Then, after another pause, "I must have hishead shaved. "

Lady Cicely demurred a little to this; but Dr. Staines stood firm, andhis lordship's valet undertook the job. 

Staines directed him where to begin; and when he had made a circulartonsure on the top of the head, had it sponged with tepid water. 

"I thought so, " said he. "Here is the mischief;" and he pointed to avery slight indentation on the left side of the pia mater. "Observe, "said he, "there is no corresponding indentation on the other side. Underneath this trifling depression a minute piece of bone is doubtlesspressing on the most sensitive part of the brain. He must be trephined. "

Mr. White's eyes sparkled. 

"You are an hospital surgeon, sir?"

"Yes, Dr. Staines. I have no fear of the operation. "

"Then I hand the patient over to you. The case at present is entirelysurgical. "

White was driven home, and soon returned with the requisite instruments. The operation was neatly performed, and then Lady Cicely was called in. She came trembling; her brother's fingers were still working, but not soregularly. 

"That is only HABIT, " said Staines; "it will soon leave off, now thecause is gone. "

And, truly enough, in about five minutes the fingers became quiet. Theeyes became human next; and within half an hour after the operation theearl gave a little sigh. 

Lady Cicely clasped her hands, and uttered a little cry of delight. 

"This will not do, " said Staines, "I shall have you screaming when hespeaks. "

"Oh, Dr. Staines! will he ever speak?"

"I think so, and very soon. So be on your guard. "

This strange scene reached its climax soon after, by the earl saying, quietly, --

"Are her knees broke, Tom?"

Lady Cicely uttered a little scream, but instantly suppressed it. 

"No, my lord, " said Staines, smartly; "only rubbed a bit. You can go tosleep, my lord. I'll take care of the mare. "

"All right, " said his lordship; and composed himself to slumber. 

Dr. Staines, at the earnest request of Lady Cicely, stayed all night;and in course of the day advised her how to nurse the patient, sinceboth physician and surgeon had done with him. 

He said the patient's brain might be irritable for some days, and nowomen in silk dresses or crinoline, or creaking shoes, must enter theroom. He told her the nurse was evidently a clumsy woman, and wouldbe letting things fall. She had better get some old soldier used tonursing. "And don't whisper in the room, " said he; "nothing irritatesthem worse; and don't let anybody play a piano within hearing; but in aday or two you may try him with slow and continuous music on the fluteor violin if you like. Don't touch his bed suddenly; don't sit on it orlean on it. Dole sunlight into his room by degrees; and when he can bearit, drench him with it. Never mind what the old school tell you. Aboutthese things they know a good deal less than nothing. "

Lady Cicely received all this like an oracle. 

The cure was telegraphed to Dr. Barr, and he was requested to settle thefee. He was not the man to undersell the profession, and was jealousof nobody, having a large practice, and a very wealthy wife. So hetelegraphed back--"Fifty guineas, and a guinea a mile from London. "

So, as Christopher Staines sat at an early breakfast, with the carriagewaiting to take him to the train, two notes were brought him on asalver. 

They were both directed by Lady Cicely Treherne. One of them contained afew kind and feeling words of gratitude and esteem; the other, a check, drawn by the earl's steward, for one hundred and thirty guineas. 

He bowled up to London, and told it all to Rosa. She sparkled withpride, affection, and joy. 

"Now, who says you are not a genius?" she cried. "A hundred and thirtyguineas for one fee! Now, if you love your wife as she loves you--youwill set up a brougham. "

CHAPTER VIII. 

Doctor Staines begged leave to distinguish; he had not said he wouldset up a carriage at the first one hundred guinea fee, but only that hewould not set up one before. There are misguided people who would callthis logic: but Rosa said it was equivocating, and urged him so warmlythat at last he burst out, "Who can go on forever saying 'No, ' tothe only creature he loves?"--and caved. In forty-eight hours more abrougham waited at Mrs. Staines's door. The servant engaged to driveit was Andrew Pearman, a bachelor, and, hitherto, an under-groom. Hereadily consented to be coachman, and to do certain domestic work aswell. So Mrs. Staines had a man-servant as well as a carriage. 

Ere long, three or four patients called, or wrote, one after the other. These Rosa set down to brougham, and crowed; she even crowed to LadyCicely Treherne, to whose influence, and not to brougham's, every one ofthese patients was owing. Lady Cicely kissed her, and demurely enjoyedthe poor soul's self-satisfaction. 

Staines himself, while he drove to or from these patients, felt moresanguine, and buoyed as he was by the consciousness of ability, began tohope he had turned the corner. 

He sent an account of Lord Ayscough's case to a medical magazine: and sofull is the world of flunkeyism, that this article, though he withheldthe name, retaining only the title, got the literary wedge in for himat once: and in due course he became a paid contributor to two medicalorgans, and used to study and write more, and indent the little stoneyard less than heretofore. 

It was about this time circumstances made him acquainted with PhoebeDale. Her intermediate history I will dispose of in fewer words than itdeserves. Her ruin, Mr. Reginald Falcon, was dismissed from his club, for marking high cards on the back with his nail. This stopped hisremaining resource--borrowing: so he got more and more out at elbows, till at last he came down to hanging about billiard-rooms, and making alittle money by concealing his game; from that, however, he rose to be amarker. 

Having culminated to that, he wrote and proposed marriage to Miss Dale, in a charming letter: she showed it to her father with pride. 

Now, if his vanity, his disloyalty, his falsehood, his ingratitude, and his other virtues had not stood in the way, he would have done thisthree years ago, and been jumped at. 

But the offer came too late; not for Phoebe--she would have taken him ina moment--but for her friends. A baited hook is one thing, a bare hookis another. Farmer Dale had long discovered where Phoebe's money went:he said not a word to her; but went up to town like a shot; found Falconout, and told him he mustn't think to eat his daughter's bread. Sheshould marry a man that could make a decent livelihood; and if shewas to run away with HIM, why they'd starve together. The farmer wasresolute, and spoke very loud, like one that expects opposition, andcomes prepared to quarrel. Instead of that, this artful rogue addressedhim with deep respect and an affected veneration, that quite puzzledthe old man; acquiesced in every word, expressed contrition for his pastmisdeeds, and told the farmer he had quite determined to labor with hishands. "You know, farmer, " said he, "I am not the only gentleman who hascome to that in the present day. Now, all my friends that have seen mysketches, assure me I am a born painter; and a painter I'll be--for loveof Phoebe. "

The farmer made a wry face. "Painter! that is a sorry sort of a trade. "

"You are mistaken. It's the best trade going. There are gentlemen makingtheir thousands a year by it. "

"Not in our parts, there bain't. Stop a bit. What be ye going to paint, sir? Housen, or folk?"

"Oh, hang it, not houses. Figures, landscapes. "

"Well, ye might just make shift to live at it, I suppose, with here andthere a signboard. They are the best paid, our way: but, Lord bless ye, THEY wants headpiece. Well, sir, let me see your work. Then we'll talkfurther. "

"I'll go to work this afternoon, " said Falcon eagerly; then withaffected surprise, "Bless me; I forgot. I have no palette, no canvas, nocolors. You couldn't lend me a couple of sovereigns to buy them, couldyou?"

"Ay, sir; I could. But I woan't. I'll lend ye the things, though, if youhave a mind to go with me and buy 'em. "

Falcon agreed, with a lofty smile; and the purchases were made. 

Mr. Falcon painted a landscape or two out of his imagination. Thedealers to whom he took them declined them; one advised the gentlemanpainter to color tea-boards. "That's your line, " said he. 

"The world has no taste, " said the gentleman painter: "but it has gotlots of vanity: I'll paint portraits. "

He did; and formidable ones: his portraits were amazingly like thepeople, and yet unlike men and women, especially about the face. Onething, he didn't trouble with lights and shades, but went slap at thefeatures. 

His brush would never have kept him; but he carried an instrument, inthe use of which he was really an artist, viz. , his tongue. By wheedlingand underselling--for he only charged a pound for the painted canvas--hecontrived to live; then he aspired to dress as well as live. With thissecond object in view, he hit upon a characteristic expedient. 

He used to prowl about, and when he saw a young woman sweeping theafternoon streets with a long silk train, and, in short, dressed to ridein the park, yet parading the streets, he would take his hat off toher, with an air of profound respect, and ask permission to take herportrait. Generally he met a prompt rebuff; but if the fair was sounlucky as to hesitate a single moment, he told her a melting tale; hehad once driven his four-in-hand; but by indorsing his friends' bills, was reduced to painting likeness, admirable likenesses in oil, only aguinea each. 

His piteous tale provoked more gibes than pity, but as he had no shame, the rebuffs went for nothing: he actually did get a few sitters by hisaudacity: and some of the sitters actually took the pictures, and paidfor them; others declined them with fury as soon as they were finished. These he took back with a piteous sigh, that sometimes extracted halfa crown. Then he painted over the rejected one and let it dry; so thatsometimes a paid portrait would present a beauty enthroned on the debrisof two or three rivals, and that is where few beauties would object tosit. 

All this time he wrote nice letters to Phoebe, and adopted the toneof the struggling artist, and the true lover, who wins his bride bypatience, perseverance, and indomitable industry; a babbled of "SelfHelp. "

Meantime, Phoebe was not idle: an excellent business woman, she tookimmediate advantage of a new station that was built near the farm, tosend up milk, butter, and eggs to London. Being genuine, they sold likewildfire. Observing that, she extended her operations, by buying ofother farmers, and forwarding to London: and then, having of course aneye to her struggling artist, she told her father she must have a shopin London, and somebody in it she could depend upon. 

"With all my heart, wench, " said he; "but it must not be thou. I can'tspare thee. "

"May I have Dick, father?"

"Dick! he is rather young. "

"But he is very quick, father, and minds every word I tell him. "

"Ay, he is as fond of thee as ever a cow was of a calf. Well, you cantry him. "

So the love-sick woman of business set up a little shop, and put herbrother Dick in it, and all to see more of her struggling artist. Shestayed several days, to open the little shop, and start the business. She advertised pure milk, and challenged scientific analysis ofeverything she sold. This came of her being a reader; she knew, by thejournals, that we live in a sinful and adulterating generation, andanything pure must be a godsend to the poor poisoned public. 

Now, Dr. Staines, though known to the profession as a diagnost, was alsoan analyst, and this challenge brought him down on Phoebe Dale. Hetold her he was a physician, and in search of pure food for his ownfamily--would she really submit the milk to analysis?

Phoebe smiled an honest country smile, and said, "Surely, sir. " She gavehim every facility, and he applied those simple tests which are commonlyused in France, though hardly known in England. 

He found it perfectly pure, and told her so; and gazed at Phoebe for amoment, as a phenomenon. 

She smiled again at that, her broad country smile. "That is a wonder inLondon, I dare say. It's my belief half the children that die here areperished with watered milk. Well, sir, we shan't have that on our souls, father and I; he is a farmer in Essex. This comes a many miles, thismilk. "

Staines looked in her face, with kindly approval marked on his owneloquent features. She blushed a little at so fixed a regard. Then heasked her if she would supply him with milk, butter, and eggs. 

"Why, if you mean sell you them, yes, sir, with pleasure. But forsending them home to you in this big town, as some do, I can't; forthere's only brother Dick and me: it is an experiment like. "

"Very well, " said Staines: "I will send for them. "

"Thank you kindly, sir. I hope you won't be offended, sir; but we onlysell for ready money. "

"All the better: my order at home is, no bills. "

When he was gone, Phoebe, assuming vast experience, though this was onlyher third day, told Dick that was one of the right sort: "and oh, Dick, "said she, "did you notice his eye?"

"Not particklar, sister. "

"There now; the boy is blind. Why, 'twas like a jewel. Such an eye Inever saw in a man's head, nor a woman's neither. "

Staines told his wife about Phoebe and her brother, and spoke of herwith a certain admiration that raised Rosa's curiosity, and even thatsort of vague jealousy that fires at bare praise. "I should like to seethis phenomenon, " said she. "You shall, " said he. "I have to call onMrs. Manly. She lives near. I will drop you at the little shop, and comeback for you. "

He did so, and that gave Rosa a quarter of an hour to make herpurchases. When he came back he found her conversing with Phoebe, asif they were old friends, and Dick glaring at his wife with awe andadmiration. He could hardly get her away. 

She was far more extravagant in her praises than Dr. Staines had been. "What a good creature!" said she. "And how clever! To think of hersetting up a shop like that all by herself; for her Dick is onlyseventeen. "

Dr. Staines recommended the little shop wherever he went, and evenextended its operations. He asked Phoebe to get her own wheat groundat home, and send the flour up in bushel bags. "These assassins, thebakers, " said he, "are putting copper into the flour now, as well asalum. Pure flour is worth a fancy price to any family. With that wecan make the bread of life. What you buy in the shops is the bread ofdeath. "

Dick was a good, sharp boy, devoted to his sister. He stuck to the shopin London, and handed the money to Phoebe, when she came for it. Sheworked for it in Essex, and extended her country connection for supplyas the retail business increased. 

Staines wrote an article on pure food, and incidentally mentioned theshop as a place where flour, milk, and butter were to be had pure. Thisarticle was published in the Lancet, and caused quite a run upon thelittle shop. By and by Phoebe enlarged it, for which there were greatcapabilities, and made herself a pretty little parlor, and there she andDick sat to Falcon for their portraits; here, too, she hung his rejectedlandscapes. They were fair in her eyes; what matter whether theywere like nature? his hand had painted them. She knew, from him, thateverybody else had rejected them. With all the more pride and love didshe have them framed in gold, and hung up with the portraits in herlittle sanctum. 

For a few months Phoebe Dale was as happy as she deserved to be. Herlover was working, and faithful to her--at least she saw no reason todoubt it. He came to see her every evening, and seemed devoted to her:would sit quietly with her, or walk with her, or take her to a play, ora music-hall--at her expense. 

She now lived in a quiet elysium, with a bright and rapturous dreamof the future; for she saw she had hit on a good vein of business, andshould soon be independent, and able to indulge herself with a husband, and ask no man's leave. 

She sent to Essex for a dairymaid, and set her to churn milk intobutter, coram populo, at a certain hour every morning. This made a newsensation. At other times the woman was employed to deliver milk andcream to a few favored customers. 

Mrs. Staines dropped in now and then, and chatted with her. Her sweetface and her naivete won Phoebe's heart; and one day, as happiness isapt to be communicative, she let out to her, in reply to a feeler or twoas to whether she was quite alone, that she was engaged to be married toa gentleman. "But he is not rich, ma'am, " said Phoebe plaintively; "hehas had trouble: obliged to work for his living, like me; he paintedthese pictures, EVERY ONE OF THEM. If it was not making too free, andyou could spare a guinea--he charges no more for the picture, only youmust go to the expense of the frame. "

"Of course I will, " said Rosa warmly. "I'll sit for it here, any day youlike. "

Now, Rosa said this, out of her ever ready kindness, not to woundPhoebe: but having made the promise, she kept clear of the place forsome days, hoping Phoebe would forget all about it. Meantime she senther husband to buy. 

In about a fortnight she called again, primed with evasions if sheshould be asked to sit; but nothing of the kind was proposed. Phoebe wasdealing when she went in. The customers disposed of, she said to Mrs. Staines, "Oh, ma'am, I am glad you are come. I have something I shouldlike to show you. " She took her into the parlor, and made her sit down:then she opened a drawer, and took out a very small substance thatlooked like a tear of ground glass, and put it on the table beforeher. "There, ma'am, " said she, "that is all he has had for painting afriend's picture. "

"Oh! what a shame. "

"His friend was going abroad--to Natal; to his uncle that farms outthere, and does very well; it is a first-rate part, if you take out alittle stock with you, and some money; so my one gave him credit, andwhen the letter came with that postmark, he counted on a five-poundnote; but the letter only said he had got no money yet, but sent himsomething as a keepsake: and there was this little stone. Poor fellow!he flung it down in a passion; he was so disappointed. "

Phoebe's great gray eyes filled; and Rosa gave a little coo of sympathythat was very womanly and lovable. 

Phoebe leaned her cheek on her hand, and said thoughtfully, "I picked itup, and brought it away; for, after all--don't you think, ma'am, it isvery strange that a friend should send it all that way, if it was worthnothing at all?"

"It is impossible. He could not be so heartless. "

"And do you know, ma'am, when I take it up in my fingers, it doesn'tfeel like a thing that was worth nothing. "

"No more it does: it makes my fingers tremble. May I take it home, andshow it my husband? he is a great physician and knows everything. "

"I am sure I should be obliged to you, ma'am. "

Rosa drove home, on purpose to show it to Christopher. She ran intohis study: "Oh, Christopher, please look at that. You know that goodcreature we have our flour and milk and things of. She is engaged, andhe is a painter. Oh, such daubs! He painted a friend, and the friendsent that home all the way from Natal, and he dashed it down, and SHEpicked it up, and what is it? ground glass, or a pebble, or what?"

"Humph!--by its shape, and the great--brilliancy--and refraction oflight, on this angle, where the stone has got polished by rubbingagainst other stones, in the course of ages, I'm inclined to think itis--a diamond. "

"A diamond!" shrieked Rosa. "No wonder my fingers trembled. Oh, canit be? Oh, you good, cold-blooded Christie!--Poor things!--Come along, Diamond! Oh you beauty! Oh you duck!"

"Don't be in such a hurry. I only said I thought it was a diamond. Letme weigh it against water, and then I shall KNOW. "

He took it to his little laboratory, and returned in a few minutes, andsaid, "Yes. It is just three times and a half heavier than water. It isa diamond. "

"Are you positive?"

"I'll stake my existence. "

"What is it worth?"

"My dear, I'm not a jeweller: but it is very large and pear-shaped, and I see no flaw: I don't think you could buy it for less than threehundred pounds. "

"Three hundred pounds! It is worth three hundred pounds. "

"Or sell it for more than a hundred and fifty pounds. "

"A hundred and fifty! It is worth a hundred and fifty pounds. "

"Why, my dear, one would think you had invented 'the diamond. ' Show mehow to crystallize carbon, and I will share your enthusiasm. "

"Oh, I leave you to carbonize crystal. I prefer to gladden hearts: and Iwill do it this minute, with my diamond. "

"Do, dear; and I will take that opportunity to finish my article onAdulteration. "

Rosa drove off to Phoebe Dale. 

Now Phoebe was drinking tea with Reginald Falcon, in her little parlor. "Who is that, I wonder?" said she, when the carriage drew up. 

Reginald drew back a corner of the gauze curtain which had been drawnacross the little glass door leading from the shop. 

"It is a lady, and a beautiful--Oh! let me get out. " And he rushed outat the door leading to the kitchen, not to be recognized. 

This set Phoebe all in a flutter, and the next moment Mrs. Stainestapped at the little door, then opened it, and peeped. "Good news! may Icome in?"

"Surely, " said Phoebe, still troubled and confused by Reginald's strangeagitation. 

"There! It is a diamond!" screamed Rosa. "My husband knew it directly. He knows everything. If ever you are ill, go to him and nobody else--bythe refraction, and the angle, and its being three times and a half asheavy as water. It is worth three hundred pounds to buy, and a hundredand fifty pounds to sell. "

"Oh!"

"So don't you go throwing it away, as he did. (In a whisper. ) Twoteacups? Was that him? I have driven him away. I am so sorry. I'll go;and then you can tell him. Poor fellow!"

"Oh, ma'am, don't go yet, " said Phoebe, trembling. "I haven't halfthanked you. "

"Oh, bother thanks. Kiss me; that is the way. "

"May I?"

"You may, and must. There--and there--and there. Oh dear, what nicethings good luck and happiness are, and how sweet to bring them foronce. "

Upon this Phoebe and she had a nice little cry together, and Mrs. Staines went off refreshed thereby, and as gay as a lark, pointing slylyat the door, and making faces to Phoebe that she knew he was there, andshe only retired, out of her admirable discretion, that they might enjoythe diamond together. 

When she was gone, Reginald, whose eye and ear had been at the keyhole, alternately gloating on the face and drinking the accents of the onlywoman he had ever really loved, came out, looking pale, and strangelydisturbed; and sat down at table, without a word. 

Phoebe came back to him, full of the diamond. "Did you hear what shesaid, my dear? It is a diamond; it is worth a hundred and fifty poundsat least. Why, what ails you? Ah! to be sure! you know that lady. "

"I have cause to know her. Cursed jilt!"

"You seem a good deal put out at the sight of her. "

"It took me by surprise, that is all. "

"It takes me by surprise too. I thought you were cured. I thought MYturn had come at last. "

Reginald met this in sullen silence. Then Phoebe was sorry she had saidit; for, after all, it wasn't the man's fault if an old sweetheart hadrun into the room, and given him a start. So she made him some freshtea, and pressed him kindly to try her home-made bread and butter. 

My lord relaxed his frown and consented, and of course they talkeddiamond. 

He told her, loftily, he must take a studio, and his sitters must cometo him, and must no longer expect to be immortalized for one pound. Itmust be two pounds for a bust, and three pounds for a kitcat. 

"Nay, but, my dear, " said Phoebe, "they will pay no more because youhave a diamond. "

"Then they will have to go unpainted, " said Mr. Falcon. 

This was intended for a threat. Phoebe instinctively felt that it mightnot be so received; she counselled moderation. "It is a great thing tohave earned a diamond, " said she: "but 'tis only once in a life. Now, be ruled by me: go on just as you are. Sell the diamond, and give me themoney to keep for you. Why, you might add a little to it, and so wouldI, till we made it up two hundred pounds. And if you could only show twohundred pounds you had made and laid by, father would let us marry, and I might keep this shop--it pays well, I can tell you--and keep mygentleman in a sly corner; you need never be seen in it. "

"Ay, ay, " said he, "that is the small game. But I am a man that havealways preferred the big game. I shall set up my studio, and make enoughto keep us both. So give me the stone, if you please. I shall take itround to them all, and the rogues won't get it out of ME for a hundredand fifty; why, it is as big as a nut. "

"No, no, Reginald. Money has always made mischief between you and me. You never had fifty pounds yet, you didn't fall into temptation. Dopray let me keep it for you; or else sell it--I know how to sell; nobodybetter--and keep the money for a good occasion. "

"Is it yours, or mine?" said he, sulkily. 

"Why yours, dear; you earned it. "

"Then give it me, please. " And he almost forced it out of her hand. 

So now she sat down and cried over this piece of good luck, for herheart filled with forebodings. 

He laughed at her, but at last had the grace to console her, and assureher she was tormenting herself for nothing. 

"Time will show, " said she, sadly. 

Time did show. 

Three or four days he came, as usual, to laugh her out of herforebodings. But presently his visits ceased. She knew what that meant:he was living like a gentleman, melting his diamond, and playing herfalse with the first pretty face he met. 

This blow, coming after she had been so happy, struck Phoebe Dale stupidwith grief. The line on her high forehead deepened; and at night she satwith her hands before her, sighing, and sighing, and listening for thefootsteps that never came. 

"Oh, Dick!" she said, "never you love any one. I am aweary of my life. And to think that, but for that diamond--oh, dear! oh, dear! oh, dear!"

Then Dick used to try and comfort her in his way, and often put his armround her neck, and gave her his rough but honest sympathy. Dick's rareaffection was her one drop of comfort; it was something to relieve herswelling heart. 

"Oh, Dick!" she said to him one night, "I wish I had married him. "

"What, to be ill-used?"

"He couldn't use me worse. I have been wife, and mother, and sweetheart, and all, to him; and to be left like this. He treats me like the dirtbeneath his feet. "

"'Tis your own fault, Phoebe, partly. You say the word, and I'll breakevery bone in his carcass. "

"What, do him a mischief! Why, I'd rather die than harm a hair of hishead. You must never lift a hand to him, or I shall hate you. "

"Hate ME, Phoebe?"

"Ay, boy: I should. God forgive me: 'tis no use deceiving ourselves;when a woman loves a man she despises, never you come between them;there's no reason in her love, so it is incurable. One comfort, it can'tgo on forever; it must kill me, before my time and so best. If I wasonly a mother, and had a little Reginald to dandle on my knee and gloatupon, till he spent his money, and came back to me. That's why I said Iwished I was his wife. Oh! why does God fill a poor woman's bosom withlove, and nothing to spend it on but a stone; for sure his heart must beone. If I had only something that would let me always love it, a littletoddling thing at my knee, that would always let me look at it, and loveit, something too young to be false to me, too weak to run away from mylong--ing--arms--and--year--ning heart!" Then came a burst of agony, and moans of desolation, till poor puzzled Dick blubbered loudly at hergrief; and then her tears flowed in streams. 

Trouble on trouble. Dick himself got strangely out of sorts, andcomplained of shivers. Phoebe sent him to bed early, and made him somewhite wine whey very hot. In the morning he got up, and said he wasbetter; but after breakfast he was violently sick, and suffered severalreturns of nausea before noon. "One would think I was poisoned, " saidhe. 

At one o'clock he was seized with a kind of spasm in the throat thatlasted so long it nearly choked him. 

Then Phoebe got frightened, and sent to the nearest surgeon. He did nothurry, and poor Dick had another frightful spasm just as he came in. 

"It is hysterical, " said the surgeon. "No disease of the heart, isthere? Give him a little sal-volatile every half hour. "

In spite of the sal-volatile these terrible spasms seized him every halfhour; and now he used to spring off the bed with a cry of terror whenthey came; and each one left him weaker and weaker; he had to be carriedback by the women. 

A sad, sickening fear seized on Phoebe. She left Dick with the maid, andtying on her bonnet in a moment, rushed wildly down the street, askingthe neighbors for a great doctor, the best that could be had for money. One sent her east a mile, another west, and she was almost distracted, when who should drive up but Dr. And Mrs. Staines, to make purchases. She did not know his name, but she knew he was a doctor. She ran to thewindow, and cried, "Oh, doctor, my brother! Oh, pray come to him. Oh!oh!"

Dr. Staines got quickly, but calmly, out; told his wife to wait; andfollowed Phoebe up-stairs. She told him in a few agitated words how Dickhad been taken, and all the symptoms; especially what had alarmed herso, his springing off the bed when the spasm came. 

Dr. Staines told her to hold the patient up. He lost not a moment, butopened his mouth resolutely, and looked down. 

"The glottis is swollen, " said he: then he felt his hands, and said, with the grave, terrible calm of experience, "He is dying. "

"Oh, no! no! Oh, doctor, save him! save him!"

"Nothing can save him, unless we had a surgeon on the spot. Yes, I mightsave him, if you have the courage: opening his windpipe before the nextspasm is his one chance. "

"Open his windpipe! Oh, doctor! It will kill him. Let me look at you. "

She looked hard in his face. It gave her confidence. 

"Is it the only chance?"

"The only one: and it is flying while we chatter. "

"DO IT. "

He whipped out his lancet. 

"But I can't look on it. I trust to you and my Saviour's mercy. "

She fell on her knees, and bowed her head in prayer. 

Staines seized a basin, put it by the bedside, made an incision inthe windpipe, and got Dick down on his stomach, with his face over thebedside. Some blood ran, but not much. "Now!" he cried, cheerfully, "asmall bellows! There's one in your parlor. Run. "

Phoebe ran for it, and at Dr. Staines' direction lifted Dick a little, while the bellows, duly cleansed, were gently applied to the aperturein the windpipe, and the action of the lungs delicately aided by thisprimitive but effectual means. 

He showed Phoebe how to do it, tore a leaf out of his pocket-book, wrotea hasty direction to an able surgeon near, and sent his wife off with itin the carriage. 

Phoebe and he never left the patient till the surgeon came with all theinstruments required; amongst the rest, with a big, tortuous pair ofnippers, with which he could reach the glottis, and snip it. But theyconsulted, and thought it wiser to continue the surer method; and soa little tube was neatly inserted into Dick's windpipe, and his throatbandaged; and by this aperture he did his breathing for some littletime. 

Phoebe nursed him like a mother; and the terror and the joy did hergood, and made her less desolate. 

Dick was only just well when both of them were summoned to the farm, and arrived only just in time to receive their father's blessing and hislast sigh. 

Their elder brother, a married man, inherited the farm, and wasexecutor. Phoebe and Dick were left fifteen hundred pounds apiece, oncondition of their leaving England and going to Natal. 

They knew directly what that meant. Phoebe was to be parted from a badman, and Dick was to comfort her for the loss. 

When this part of the will was read to Phoebe, she turned faint, andonly her health and bodily vigor kept her from swooning right away. 

But she yielded. "It is the will of the dead, " said she, "and I willobey it; for, oh, if I had but listened to him more when he was alive toadvise me, I should not sit here now, sick at heart and dry-eyed, when Iought to be thinking only of the good friend that is gone. "

When she had come to this she became feverishly anxious to be gone. Shebusied herself in purchasing agricultural machines, and stores, and evenstock; and to see her pinching the beasts' ribs to find their condition, and parrying all attempts to cheat her, you would never have believedshe could be a love-sick woman. 

Dick kept her up to the mark. He only left her to bargain with themaster of a good vessel; for it was no trifle to take out horses andcows, and machines, and bales of cloth, cotton, and linen. 

When that was settled they came in to town together, and Phoebe boughtshrewdly, at wholesale houses in the city, for cash, and would havebargains: and the little shop in ----- Street was turned into awarehouse. 

They were all ardor, as colonists should be; and what pleased Dick most, she never mentioned Falcon; yet he learned from the maid that worthy hadbeen there twice, looking very seedy. 

The day drew near. Dick was in high spirits. 

"We shall soon make our fortune out there, " he said; "and I'll get you agood husband. "

She shuddered, but said nothing. 

The evening before they were to sail, Phoebe sat alone, in her blackdress, tired with work, and asking herself, sick at heart, could sheever really leave England, when the door opened softly, and ReginaldFalcon, shabbily dressed, came in, and threw himself into a chair. 

She started up with a scream, then sank down again, trembling, andturned her face to the wall. 

"So you are going to run away from me!" said he savagely. 

"Ay, Reginald, " said she meekly. 

"This is your fine love, is it?"

"You have worn it out, dear, " she said softly, without turning her headfrom the wall. 

"I wish I could say as much; but, curse it, every time I leave you Ilearn to love you more. I am never really happy but when I am with you. "

"Bless you for saying that, dear. I often thought you MUST find that outone day; but you took too long. "

"Oh, better late than never. Phoebe! Can you have the heart to go to theCape, and leave me all alone in the world, with nobody that really caresfor me? Surely you are not obliged to go. "

"Yes; my father left Dick and me fifteen hundred pounds apiece to go:that was the condition. Poor Dick loves his unhappy sister. He won't gowithout me--I should be his ruin--poor Dick, that really loves me;and he lay a-dying here, and the good doctor and me--God bless him--webrought him back from the grave. Ah, you little know what I havegone through. You were not here. Catch you being near me when I am introuble. There, I must go. I must go. I will go; if I fling myself intothe sea half way. "

"And, if you do, I'll take a dose of poison; for I have thrown away thetruest heart, the sweetest, most unselfish, kindest, generous--oh! oh!oh!"

And he began to howl. 

This set Phoebe sobbing. "Don't cry, dear, " she murmured through hertears; "if you have really any love for me, come with me. "

"What, leave England, and go to a desert?"

"Love can make a desert a garden. "

"Phoebe, I'll do anything else. I'll swear not to leave your side. I'llnever look at any other face but yours. But I can't live in Africa. "

"I know you can't. It takes a little real love to go there with a poorgirl like me. Ah, well, I'd have made you so happy. We are not pooremigrants. I have a horse for you to ride, and guns to shoot; and me andDick would do all the work for you. But there are others here you can'tleave for me. Well, then, good-by, dear. In Africa, or here, I shallalways love you; and many a salt tear I shall shed for you yet, many aone I have, as well you know. God bless you. Pray for poor Phoebe, thatgoes against her will to Africa, and leaves her heart with thee. "

This was too much even for the selfish Reginald. He kneeled at herknees, and took her hand, and kissed it, and actually shed a tear or twoover it. 

She could not speak. He had no hope of changing her resolution; andpresently he heard Dick's voice outside, so he got up to avoid him. "I'll come again in the morning, before you go. "

"Oh, no! no!" she gasped. "Unless you want me to die at your feet. I amalmost dead now. "

Reginald slipped out by the kitchen. 

Dick came in, and found his sister leaning with her head back againstthe wall. "Why, Phoebe, " said he, "whatever is the matter?" and he tookher by the shoulder. 

She moaned, and he felt her all limp and powerless. 

"What is it, lass? Whatever is the matter? Is it about going away?"

She would not speak for a long time. 

When she did speak, it was to say something for which my male reader maynot be prepared. But it will not surprise the women. 

"O Dick--forgive me!"

"Why, what for?"

"Forgive me, or else kill me: I don't care which. "

"I do, though. There, I forgive you. Now what's your crime?"

"I can't go. Forgive me!"

"Can't go?"

"I can't. Forgive me!"

"I'm blessed if I don't believe that vagabond has been here tormentingof you again. "

"Oh, don't miscall him. He is penitent. Yes, Dick, he has been herecrying to me--and I can't leave him. I can't--I can't. Dear Dick! youare young and stout-hearted; take all the things over, and make yourfortune out there, and leave your poor foolish sister behind. I shouldonly fling myself into the salt sea if I left him now, and that would bepeace to me, but a grief to thee. "

"Lordsake, Phoebe, don't talk so. I can't go without you. And do butthink, why, the horses are on board by now, and all the gear. It's mybelief a good hiding is all you want, to bring you to your senses; butI han't the heart to give you one, worse luck. Blessed if I know what tosay or do. "

"I won't go!" cried Phoebe, turning violent all of a sudden. "No, not ifI am dragged to the ship by the hair of my head. Forgive me!" And withthat word she was a mouse again. 

"Eh, but women are kittle cattle to drive, " said poor Dick ruefully. Anddown he sat at a nonplus, and very unhappy. 

Phoebe sat opposite, sullen, heart-sick, wretched to the core; butdetermined not to leave Reginald. 

Then came an event that might have been foreseen, yet it took them bothby surprise. 

A light step was heard, and a graceful, though seedy, figure entered theroom with a set speech in his mouth: "Phoebe, you are right. I owe it toyour long and faithful affection to make a sacrifice for you. I will goto Africa with you. I will go to the end of the world, sooner than youshall say I care for any woman on earth but you. "

Both brother and sister were so unprepared for this, that they couldhardly realize it at first. 

Phoebe turned her great, inquiring eyes on the speaker, and it wasa sight to see amazement, doubt, hope, and happiness animating herfeatures, one after another. 

"Is this real?" said she. 

"I will sail with you to-morrow, Phoebe; and I will make you a goodhusband, if you will have me. "

"That is spoke like a man, " said Dick. "You take him at his word, Phoebe; and if he ill-uses you out there, I'll break every bone in hisskin. "

"How dare you threaten him?" said Phoebe. "You had best leave the room. "

Out went poor Dick, with the tear in his eye at being snubbed so. Whilehe was putting up the shutters, Phoebe was making love to her pseudopenitent. "My dear, " said she, "trust yourself to me. You don't know allmy love yet; for I have never been your wife, and I would not be yourjade; that is the only thing I ever refused you. Trust yourself to me. Why, you never found happiness with others; try it with me. It shallbe the best day's work you ever did, going out in the ship with me. Youdon't know how happy a loving wife can make her husband. I'll pet youout there as man was never petted. And besides, it isn't for life; Dickand me will soon make a fortune out there, and then I'll bring you home, and see you spend it any way you like but one. Oh, how I love you! doyou love me a little? I worship the ground you walk on. I adore everyhair of your head!" Her noble arm went round his neck in a moment, andthe grandeur of her passion electrified him so far that he kissed heraffectionately, if not quite so warmly as she did him: and so it was allsettled. The maid was discharged that night instead of the morning, andReginald was to occupy her bed. Phoebe went up-stairs with her heartliterally on fire, to prepare his sleeping-room, and so Dick andReginald had a word. 

"I say, Dick, how long will this voyage be?"

"Two months, sir, I am told. "

"Please to cast your eyes on this suit of mine. Don't you think it israther seedy--to go to Africa with? Why, I shall disgrace you on boardthe ship. I say, Dick, lend me three sovs. , just to buy a new suit atthe slop-shop. "

"Well, brother-in-law, " said Dick, "I don't see any harm in that. I'llgo and fetch them for you. "

What does this sensible Dick do but go up-stairs to Phoebe, and say, "Hewants three pounds to buy a suit; am I to lend it him?"

Phoebe was shaking and patting her penitent's pillow. She dropped iton the bed in dismay. "Oh, Dick, not for all the world! Why, if he hadthree sovereigns, he'd desert me at the water's edge. Oh, God help me, how I love him! God forgive me, how I mistrust him! Good Dick! kindDick! say we have suits of clothes, and we'll fit him like a prince, as he ought to be, on board ship; but not a shilling of money: and, mydear, don't put the weight on ME. You understand?"

"Ay, mistress, I understand. "

"Good Dick!"

"Oh, all right! and then don't you snap this here good, kind Dick's noseoff at a word again. "

"Never. I get wild if anybody threatens him. Then I'm not myself. Forgive my hasty tongue. You know I love you, dear!"

"Oh, ay! you love me well enough. But seems to me your love is preciouslike cold veal, and your love for that chap is hot roast beef. "

"Ha, ha, ha, ha!"

"Oh, ye can laugh now, can ye?"

"Ha, ha, ha!"

"Well, the more of that music, the better for me. "

"Yes, dear; but go and tell him. "

Dick went down, and said, "I've got no money to spare, till I get to theCape; but Phoebe has got a box full of suits, and I made her promise tokeep it out. She will dress you like a prince, you may be sure. "

"Oh, that is it, is it?" said Reginald dryly. 

Dick made no reply. 

At nine o'clock they were on board the vessel; at ten she weighedanchor, and a steam-vessel drew her down the river about thirty miles, then cast off, and left her to the south-easterly breeze. Up went sailafter sail; she nodded her lofty head, and glided away for Africa. 

Phoebe shed a few natural tears at leaving the shores of Old England;but they soon dried. She was demurely happy, watching her prize, andasking herself had she really secured it, and all in a few hours?

They had a prosperous voyage: were married at Cape Town, and went upthe country, bag and baggage, looking out for a good bargain in land. Reginald was mounted on an English horse, and allowed to zigzag about, and shoot, and play, while his wife and brother-in-law marched slowlywith their cavalcade. 

What with air, exercise, wholesome food, and smiles of welcome, anddelicious petting, this egotist enjoyed himself finely. He admitted asmuch. Says he, one evening to his wife, who sat by him for the pleasureof seeing him feed, "It sounds absurd; but I never was so happy in allmy life. "

At that, the celestial expression of her pastoral face, and the maternalgesture with which she drew her pet's head to her queenly bosom, was apicture for celibacy to gnash the teeth at. 

CHAPTER IX. 

During this period, the most remarkable things that happened to Dr. AndMrs. Staines were really those which I have related as connecting themwith Phoebe Dale and her brother; to which I will now add that Dr. Staines detailed Dick's case in a remarkable paper, entitled "Oedema ofthe Glottis, " and showed how the patient had been brought back fromthe grave by tracheotomy and artificial respiration. He received a highprice for this article. 

To tell the truth, he was careful not to admit that it was he who hadopened the windpipe; so the credit of the whole operation was given toMr. Jenkyn; and this gentleman was naturally pleased, and threw a goodmany consultation fees in Staines's way. 

The Lucases, to his great comfort--for he had an instinctive aversion toMiss Lucas--left London for Paris in August, and did not return all theyear. 

In February he reviewed his year's work and twelve months' residence inthe Bijou. The pecuniary result was, outgoings, nine hundred and fiftypounds; income, from fees, two hundred and eighty pounds; writing, ninety pounds. 

He showed these figures to Mrs. Staines, and asked her if shecould suggest any diminution of expenditure. Could she do with lesshousekeeping money?

"Oh, impossible! You cannot think how the servants eat; and they won'ttouch our home-made bread. "

"The fools! Why?"

"Oh, because they think it costs us less. Servants seem to me always tohate the people whose bread they eat. "

"More likely it is their vanity. Nothing that is not paid for beforetheir eyes seems good enough for them. Well, dear, the bakers willrevenge us. But is there any other item we could reduce? Dress?"

"Dress! Why, I spend nothing. "

"Forty-five pounds this year. "

"Well, I shall want none next year. "

"Well, then, Rosa, as there is nothing we can reduce, I must write more, and take more fees, or we shall be in the wrong box. Only eight hundredand sixty pounds left of our little capital; and, mind, we have notanother shilling in the world. One comfort, there is no debt. We payready money for everything. "

Rosa colored a little, but said nothing. 

Staines did his part nobly. He read; he wrote; he paced the yard. Hewore his old clothes in the house; he took off his new ones when he camein. He was all genius, drudgery, patience. 

How Phoebe Dale would have valued him, co-operated with him, and pettedhim, if she had had the good luck to be his wife!

The season came back, and with it Miss Lucas, towing a brilliant bride, Mrs. Vivian, young, rich, pretty, and gay, with a waist you could span, and athirst for pleasure. 

This lady was the first that ever made Rosa downright jealous. Sheseemed to have everything the female heart could desire; and she was No. 1 with Miss Lucas this year. Now, Rosa was No. 1 last season, and hadweakly imagined that was to last forever. But Miss Lucas had always asort of female flame, and it never lasted two seasons. 

Rosa did not care so very much for Miss Lucas before, except as aconvenient friend; but now she was mortified to tears at finding MissLucas made more fuss with another than with her. 

This foolish feeling spurred her to attempt a rivalry with Mrs. Vivian, in the very things where rivalry was hopeless. 

Miss Lucas gave both ladies tickets for a flower-show, where all thegreat folk were to be, princes and princesses, etc. 

"But I have nothing to wear, " sighed Rosa. 

"Then you must get something, and mind it is not pink, please; for wemust not clash in colors. You know I'm dark, and pink becomes me. (Theselfish young brute was not half so dark as Rosa. ) Mine is comingfrom Worth's, in Paris, on purpose. And this new Madame Cie, of RegentStreet, has such a duck of a bonnet, just come from Paris. She wantedto make me one from it; but I told her I would have none but the patternbonnet--and she knows very well she can't pass a copy off on me. Letme drive you up there, and you can see mine, and order one, if you likeit. "

"Oh, thank you! let me just run and speak to my husband first. "

Staines was writing for the bare life, and a number of German booksabout him, slaving to make a few pounds--when in comes the buoyantfigure and beaming face his soul delighted in. 

He laid down his work, to enjoy the sunbeam of love. 

"Oh, darling, I've only come in for a minute. We are going toa flower-show on the 13th; everybody will be so beautifullydressed--especially that Mrs. Vivian. I have got ten yards of beautifulblue silk in my wardrobe, but that is not enough to make a wholedress--everything takes so much stuff now. Madame Cie does not careto make up dresses unless she finds the silk, but Miss Lucas says shethinks, to oblige a friend of hers, she would do it for once in a way. You know, dear, it would only take a few yards more, and it would lastas a dinner-dress for ever so long. "

Then she clasped him round the neck, and leaned her head upon hisshoulder, and looked lovingly up in his face. "I know you would likeyour Rosa to look as well as Mrs. Vivian. "

"No one ever looks as well, in my eyes, as my Rosa. There, the dresswill add nothing to your beauty; but go and get it, to please yourself;it is very considerate of you to have chosen something of which you haveten yards, already. See, dear, I'm to receive twenty pounds for thisarticle; if research was paid it ought to be a hundred. I shall add itall to your allowance for dresses this year. So no debt, mind; but cometo me for everything. "

The two ladies drove off to Madame Cie's, a pretty shop lined with darkvelvet and lace draperies. 

In the back room they were packing a lovely bridal dress, going off thefollowing Saturday to New York. 

"What, send from America to London?"

"Oh, dear, yes!" exclaimed Madame Cie. "The American ladies areexcellent customers. They buy everything of the best, and the mostexpensive. "

"I have brought a new customer, " said Miss Lucas; "and I want you to doa great favor, and that is to match a blue silk, and make her a prettydress for the flower-show on the 13th. "

Madame Cie produced a white muslin polonaise, which she was just goingto send home to the Princess -----, to be worn over mauve. 

"Oh, how pretty and simple!" exclaimed Miss Lucas. 

"I have some lace exactly like that, " said Mrs. Staines. 

"Then why don't you have a polonaise? The lace is the only expensivepart, the muslin is a mere nothing; and it is such a useful dress, itcan be worn over any silk. "

It was agreed Madame Cie was to send for the blue silk and the lace, andthe dresses were to be tried on on Thursday. 

On Thursday, as Rosa went gayly into Madame Cie's back room to have thedresses tried on, Madame Cie said, "You have a beautiful lace shawl, but it wants arranging; in five minutes I could astonish you with what Icould do to that shawl. "

"Oh, pray do, " said Mrs. Staines. 

The dressmaker kept her word. By the time the blue dress was tried on, Madame Cie had, with the aid of a few pins, plaits, and a bow of blueribbon, transformed the half lace shawl into one of the smartest anddistingue things imaginable; but when the bill came in at Christmas, for that five minutes' labor and distingue touch, she charged one poundeight. 

Madame Cie then told the ladies, in an artfully confidential tone, she had a quantity of black silk coming home, which she had purchasedconsiderably below cost price; and that she should like to make themeach a dress--not for her own sake, but theirs--as she knew they wouldnever meet such a bargain again. "You know, Miss Lucas, " she continued, "we don't want our money, when we know our customers. Christmas is soonenough for us. "

"Christmas is a long time off, " thought the young wife, "nearly tenmonths. I think I'll have a black silk, Madame Cie; but I must notsay anything to the doctor about it just yet, or he might think meextravagant. "

"No one can ever think a lady extravagant for buying a black silk; it'ssuch a useful dress; lasts forever--almost. "

Days, weeks, and months rolled on, and with them an ever-rolling tide offlower-shows, dinners, at-homes, balls, operas, lawn-parties, concerts, and theatres. 

Strange that in one house there should be two people who loved eachother, yet their lives ran so far apart, except while they were asleep:the man all industry, self-denial, patience; the woman all frivolity, self-indulgence, and amusement; both chained to an oar, only--one in aworking boat, the other in a painted galley. 

The woman got tired first, and her charming color waned sadly. She cameto him for medicine to set her up. "I feel so languid. "

"No, no, " said he; "no medicine can do the work of wholesome food andrational repose. You lack the season of all natures, sleep. Dine at homethree days running, and go to bed at ten. "

On this the doctor's wife went to a chemist for advice. He gave hera pink stimulant; and, as stimulants have two effects, viz. , first tostimulate, and then to weaken, this did her no lasting good. Dr. Stainescursed the London season, and threatened to migrate to Liverpool. 

But there was worse behind. 

Returning one day to his dressing-room, just after Rosa had comedown-stairs, he caught sight of a red stain in a wash-hand-basin. Heexamined it; it was arterial blood. 

He went to her directly, and expressed his anxiety. 

"Oh, it is nothing, " said she. 

"Nothing! Pray, how often has it occurred?"

"Once or twice. I must take your advice, and be quiet, that is all. "

Staines examined the housemaid; she lied instinctively at first, seeinghe was alarmed; but, being urged to tell the truth, said she had seen itrepeatedly, and had told the cook. 

He went down-stairs again, and sat down, looking wretched. 

"Oh, dear!" said Rosa. "What is the matter now?"

"Rosa, " said he, very gravely, "there are two people a woman is mad todeceive--her husband and her physician. You have deceived both. "

CHAPTER X. 

I suspect Dr. Staines merely meant to say that she had concealed fromhim an alarming symptom for several weeks; but she answered in a hurry, to excuse herself, and let the cat out of the bag--excuse my vulgarity. 

"It was all that Mrs. Vivian's fault. She laughed at me so for notwearing them; and she has a waist you can span--the wretch!"

"Oh, then, you have been wearing stays clandestinely?"

"Why, you know I have. Oh, what a stupid! I have let it all out. "

"How could you do it, when you knew, by experience, it is your death?"

"But it looks so beautiful, a tiny waist. "

"It looks as hideous as a Chinese foot, and, to the eye of science, farmore disgusting; it is the cause of so many unlovely diseases. "

"Just tell me one thing; have you looked at Mrs. Vivian?"

"Minutely. I look at all your friends with great anxiety, knowing noanimal more dangerous than a fool. Vivian--a skinny woman, with a prettyface, lovely hair, good teeth, dying eyes"--

"Yes, lovely!"

"A sure proof of a disordered stomach--and a waist pinched in sounnaturally, that I said to myself, 'Where on earth does this idiot puther liver?' Did you ever read of the frog who burst, trying to swell toan ox? Well, here is the rivalry reversed; Mrs. Vivian is a bag of bonesin a balloon; she can machine herself into a wasp; but a fine youngwoman like you, with flesh and muscle, must kill yourself three or fourtimes before you can make your body as meagre, hideous, angular, andunnatural as Vivian's. But all you ladies are mono-maniacs; one might aswell talk sense to a gorilla. It brought you to the edge of the grave. I saved you. Yet you could go and--God grant me patience. So I supposethese unprincipled women lent you their stays to deceive your husband?"

"No. But they laughed at me so that--Oh, Christie, I'm a wretch; I kepta pair at the Lucases, and a pair at Madame Cie's, and I put them on nowand then. "

"But you never appeared here in them?"

"What, before my tyrant? Oh no, I dared not. "

"So you took them off before you came home?"

Rosa hung her head, and said "Yes" in a reluctant whisper. 

"You spent your daylight dressing. You dressed to go out; dressed againin stays; dressed again without them; and all to deceive your husband, and kill yourself, at the bidding of two shallow, heartless women, whowould dance over your grave without a pang of remorse, or sentiment ofany kind, since they live, like midges, ONLY TO DANCE IN THE SUN, ANDSUCK SOME WORKER'S BLOOD. "

"Oh, Christie! I'm so easily led. I am too great a fool to live. Killme!"

And she kneeled down, and renewed the request, looking up in his facewith an expression that might have disarmed Cain ipsum. 

He smiled superior. "The question is, are you sorry you have been sothoughtless?"

"Yes, dear. Oh! oh!"

"Will you be very good to make up?"

"Oh, yes. Only tell me how; for it does not come natural to poor me. "

"Keep out of those women's way for the rest of the season. "

"I will. "

"Bring your stays home, and allow me to do what I like with them. "

"Of course. Cut them in a million pieces. "

"Till you are recovered, you must be my patient, and go nowhere withoutme. "

"That is no punishment, I am sure. "

"Punishment! Am I the man to punish you? I only want to save you. "

"Well, darling, it won't be the first time. "

"No; but I do hope it will be the last. "

CHAPTER XI. 

"Sublata causa tollitur effectus. " The stays being gone, and dissipationmoderated, Mrs. Staines bloomed again, and they gave one or twounpretending little dinners at the Bijou. Dr. Staines admitted no falsefriends to these. They never went beyond eight; five gentlemen, threeladies. By this arrangement the terrible discursiveness of the fair, andman's cruel disposition to work a subject threadbare, were controlledand modified, and a happy balance of conversation established. LadyCicely Treherne was always invited, and always managed to come; for shesaid, "They were the most agweeable little paaties in London, and thehost and hostess both so intewesting. " In the autumn, Staines workeddouble tides with the pen, and found a vehicle for medical narratives ina weekly magazine that did not profess medicine. 

This new vein put him in heart. His fees, towards the end of the year, were less than last year, because there was no hundred-guinea fee; butthere was a marked increase in the small fees, and the unflagging penhad actually earned him two hundred pounds, or nearly. So he was in goodspirits. 

Not so Mrs. Staines; for some time she had been uneasy, fretful, andlike a person with a weight on her mind. 

One Sunday she said to him, "Oh, dear, I do feel so dull. Nobody to goto church with, nor yet to the Zoo. "

"I'll go with you, " said Staines. 

"You will! To which?"

"To both; in for a penny, in for a pound. "

So to church they went; and Staines, whose motto was "Hoc age, " mindedhis book. Rosa had intervals of attention to the words, but found plentyof time to study the costumes. 

During the Litany in bustled Clara, the housemaid, with a white jacketon so like her mistress's, that Rosa clutched her own convulsively, to see whether she had not been skinned of it by some devilishsleight-of-hand. 

No, it was on her back; but Clara's was identical. 

In her excitement, Rosa pinched Staines, and with her nose, that wentlike a water-wagtail, pointed out the malefactor. Then she whispered, "Look! How dare she? My very jacket! Earrings too, and brooches, anddresses her hair like mine. "

"Well, never mind, " whispered Staines. "Sunday is her day. We havegot all the week to shine. There, don't look at her--'From all evilspeaking, lying, and slandering'"--

"I can't keep my eyes off her. "

"Attend to the Litany. Do you know, this is really a beautifulcomposition?"

"I'd rather do the work fifty times over myself. "

"Hush! people will hear you. "

When they walked home after church, Staines tried to divert her from theconsideration of her wrongs; but no--all other topics were too flat bycomparison. 

She mourned the hard fate of mistresses--unfortunate creatures thatcould not do without servants. 

"Is not that a confession that servants are good, useful creatures, with all their faults? Then as to the mania for dress, why, that is notconfined to them. It is the mania of the sex. Are you free from it?"

"No, of course not. But I am a lady, if you please. "

"Then she is your intellectual inferior, and more excusable. Anyway, itis wise to connive at a thing we can't help. "

"What keep her, after this? no, never. "

"My dear, pray do not send her away, for she is tidy in the house, andquick, and better than any one we have had this last six months; and youknow you have tried a great number. "

"To hear you speak, one would think it was my fault that we have so manybad servants. "

"I never said it was your fault; but I THINK, dearest, a little moreforbearance in trifles"--

"Trifles! trifles--for a mistress and maid to be seen dressed alike inthe same church? You take the servants' part against me, that you do. "

"You should not say that, even in jest. Come now, do you really thinka jacket like yours can make the servant look like you, or detract fromyour grace and beauty? There is a very simple way; put your jacket byfor a future occasion, and wear something else in its stead at church. "

"A nice thing, indeed, to give in to these creatures. I won't do it. "

"Why won't you, this once?"

"Because I won't--there!"

"That is unanswerable, " said he. 

Mrs. Staines said that; but when it came to acting, she deferred toher husband's wish; she resigned her intention of sending for Claraand giving her warning. On the contrary, when Clara let her in, and thewhite jackets rubbed together in the narrow passage, she actually saidnothing, but stalked to her own room, and tore her jacket off, and flungit on the floor. 

Unfortunately, she was so long dressing for the Zoo, that Clara camein to arrange the room. She picks up the white jacket, takes it in bothhands, gives it a flap, and proceeds to hang it up in the wardrobe. 

Then the great feminine heart burst its bounds. 

"You can leave that alone. I shall not wear that again. "

Thereupon ensued an uneven encounter, Clara being one of those of whomthe Scripture says, "The poison of asps is under their tongues. "

"La, ma'am, " said she, "why, 'tain't so very dirty. "

"No; but it is too common. "

"Oh, because I've got one like it. Ay. Missises can't abide agood-looking servant, nor to see 'em dressed becoming. "

"Mistresses do not like servants to forget their place, nor wear whatdoes not become their situation. "

"My situation! Why, I can pay my way, go where I will. I don't trembleat the tradesmen's knock, as some do. "

"Leave the room! Leave it this moment. "

"Leave the room, yes--and I'll leave the house too, and tell all theneighbors what I know about it. "

She flounced out and slammed the door; and Rosa sat down, trembling. 

Clara rushed to the kitchen, and there told the cook and Andrew Pearmanhow she had given it to the mistress, and every word she had said toher, with a good many more she had not. 

The cook laughed and encouraged her. 

But Andrew Pearman was wroth, and said, "You to affront our mistresslike that! Why, if I had heard you, I'd have twisted your neck for ye. "

"It would take a better man than you to do that. You mind your ownbusiness. Stick to your one-horse chay. "

"Well, I'm not above my place, for that matter. But you gals must alwaysbe aping your betters. "

"I have got a proper pride, that is all, and you haven't. You ought tobe ashamed of yourself to do two men's work; drive a brougham and waiton a horse, and then come in and wait at table, You are a tea-kettlegroom, that is what you are. Why, my brother was coachman to LordFitz-James, and gave his lordship notice the first time he had to drivethe children. Says he, 'I don't object to the children, my lord, butwith her ladyship in the carriage. ' It's such servants as you as spoilplaces. No servant as knows what's due to a servant ought to know you. They'd scorn your 'quaintance, as I do, Mr. Pearman. "

"You are a stuck-up hussy, and a soldier's jade, " roared Andrew. 

"And you are a low tea-kettle groom. "

This expression wounded the great equestrian soul to the quick; the restof Sunday he pondered on it; the next morning he drove the doctor, asusual, but with a heavy heart. 

Meantime, the cook made haste and told the baker Pearman had "got ithot" from the housemaid, and she had called him a tea-kettle groom; andin less than half an hour after that it was in every stable in the mews. Why, as Pearman was taking the horse out of the brougham, didn't twolittle red-headed urchins call out, "Here, come and see the tea-kettlegroom!" and at night some mischievous boy chalked on the black door ofthe stable a large white tea-kettle, and next morning a drunken, idlefellow, with a clay pipe in his mouth, and a dirty pair of corduroytrousers, no coat, but a shirt very open at the chest, showing inflamedskin, the effect of drink, inspected that work of art with blinking eyesand vacillating toes, and said, "This comes of a chap doing too much. A few more like you, and work would be scarce. A fine thing forgentlefolks to make one man fill two places! but it ain't thegentlefolks' fault, it's the man as humors 'em. "

Pearman was a peaceable man, and made no reply, but went on with hiswork; only during the day he told his master that he should be obligedto him if he would fill his situation as soon as convenient. 

The master inquired the cause, and the man told him, and said the mewswas too hot for him. 

The doctor offered him five pounds a year more, knowing he had atreasure; but Pearman said, with sadness and firmness, that he had madeup his mind to go, and go he would. 

The doctor's heart fairly sank at the prospect of losing the onecreature he could depend upon. 

Next Sunday evening Clara was out, and fell in with friends, to whom sheexaggerated her grievance. 

Then they worked her up to fury, after the manner of servants' FRIENDS. She came home, packed her box, brought it down, and then flounced intothe room to Doctor and Mrs. Staines, and said, "I shan't sleep anothernight in this house. "

Rosa was about to speak, but Dr. Staines forbade her: he said, "You hadbetter think twice of that. You are a good servant, though for onceyou have been betrayed into speaking disrespectfully. Why forfeit yourcharacter, and three weeks' wages?"

"I don't care for my wages. I won't stay in such a house as this. "

"Come, you must not be impertinent. "

"I don't mean to, sir, " said she, lowering her voice suddenly; then, raising it as suddenly, "There are my keys, ma'am, and you can search mybox. "

"Mrs. Staines will not search your box; and you will retire at once toyour own part of the house. "

"I'll go farther than that, " said she, and soon after the street doorwas slammed; the Bijou shook. 

At six o'clock next morning, she came for her box. It had been put awayfor safety. Pearman told her she must wait till the doctor came down. She did not wait, but went at eleven A. M. To a police-magistrate, andtook out a summons against Dr. Staines, for detaining a box containingcertain articles specified--value under fifteen pounds. 

When Dr. Staines heard she had been for her box, but left no address, he sent Pearman to hunt for her. He could not find her. She avoided thehouse, but sent a woman for her diurnal love letters. Dr. Staines sentthe woman back to fetch her. She came, received her box, her letters, and the balance of her wages, which was small, for Staines deducted thethree weeks' wages. 

Two days afterwards, to his surprise, the summons was served. 

Out of respect for a court of justice, however humble, Dr. Stainesattended next Monday to meet the summons. 

The magistrate was an elderly man, with a face shaped like a hog's, butmuch richer in color, being purple and pimply; so foul a visage Staineshad rarely seen, even in the lowest class of the community. 

Clara swore that her box had been opened, and certain things stolen outof it; and that she had been refused the box next morning. 

Staines swore that he had never opened the box, and that, if any oneelse had, it was with her consent, for she had left the keys for thatpurpose. He bade the magistrate observe that if a servant went away likethis, and left no address, she put it out of the master's POWER to sendher box after her; and he proved he had some trouble to force the box onher. 

The pig-faced beak showed a manifest leaning towards the servant, butthere wasn't a leg to stand on; and he did not believe, nor was itcredible, that anything had been stolen out of her box. 

At this moment, Pearman, sent by Rosa, entered the court with anold gown of Clara's that had been discovered in the scullery, and ascribbling-book of the doctor's, which Clara had appropriated, andwritten amorous verses in, very superior--in number--to those that havecome down to us from Anacreon. 

"Hand me those, " said the pig-faced beak. 

"What are they, Dr. Staines?"

"I really don't know. I must ask my servant. "

"Why, more things of mine that have been detained, " said Clara. 

"Some things that have been found since she left, " said Staines. 

"Oh! those that hide know where to find. "

"Young woman, " said Staines, "do not insult those whose bread you haveeaten, and who have given you many presents besides your wages. Sinceyou are so ready to accuse people of stealing, permit me to say thatthis book is mine, and not yours; and yet, you see, it is sent after youbecause you have written your trash in it. "

The purple, pig-faced beak went instantly out of the record, and wasteda deal of time reading Clara's poetry, and trying to be witty. He raisedthe question whose book this was. The girl swore that it WAS given herby a lady who was now in Rome. Staines swore he bought it of a certainstationer, and happening to have his passbook in his pocket, produced anentry corresponding with the date of the book. 

The pig-faced beak said that the doctor's was an improbable story, andthat the gown and the book were quite enough to justify the summons. Verdict, one guinea costs. 

"What, because two things she never demanded have been found and sentafter her? This is monstrous. I shall appeal to your superiors. "

"If you are impertinent I'll fine you five pounds. "

"Very well, sir. Now hear me: if this is an honest judgment, I pray GodI may be dead before the year's out; and, if it isn't, I pray God youmay be. "

Then the pig-faced beak fired up, and threatened to fine him forblaspheming. 

He deigned no reply, but paid the guinea, and Clara swept out of thecourt, with a train a yard long, and leaning on the arm of a scarletsoldier who avenged Dr. Staines with military promptitude. 

Christopher went home raging internally, for hitherto he had never seenso gross a case of injustice. 

One of his humble patients followed him, and said, "I wish I had known, sir; you shouldn't have come here to be insulted. Why, no gentlemancan ever get justice against a servant girl when HE is sitting. It isnotorious, and that makes these hussies so bold. I've seen that jadehere with the same story twice afore. "

Staines reached home more discomposed than he could have himselfbelieved. The reason was that barefaced injustice in a court of justiceshook his whole faith in man. He opened the street door with hislatch-key, and found two men standing in the passage. He inquired whatthey wanted. 

"Well, sir, " said one of them, civilly enough, "we only want our due. "

"For what?"

"For goods delivered at this house, sir. Balance of account. " And hehanded him a butcher's bill, L88, 11s. 5 1/2d. 

"You must be mistaken; we run no bills here. We pay ready money foreverything. "

"Well, sir, " said the butcher, "there have been payments; but thebalance has always been gaining; and we have been put off so often, wedetermined to see the master. Show you the books, sir, and welcome. "

"This instant, if you please. " He took the butcher's address, who thenretired, and the other tradesman, a grocer, told him a similar tale;balance, sixty pounds odd. 

He went to the butcher's, sick at heart, inspected the books, and sawthat, right or wrong, they were incontrovertible; that debt had beengaining slowly, but surely, almost from the time he confided theaccounts to his wife. She had kept faith with him about five weeks, nomore. 

The grocer's books told a similar tale. 

The debtor put his hand to his heart, and stood a moment. The verygrocer pitied him, and said, "There's no harry, doctor; a trifle onaccount, if settlement in full not convenient just now. I see you havebeen kept in the dark. "

"No, no, " said Christopher; "I'll pay every shilling. " He gave one gulp, and hurried away. 

At the fishmonger's, the same story, only for a smaller amount. 

A bill of nineteen pounds at the very pastrycook's; a place she hadpromised him, as her physician, never to enter. 

At the draper's, thirty-seven pounds odd. 

In short, wherever she had dealt, the same system: partial payments, andever-growing debt. 

Remembering Madame Cie, he drove in a cab to Regent Street, and askedfor Mrs. Staines's account. 

"Shall I send it, sir?"

"No; I will take it with me. "

"Miss Edwards, make out Mrs. Staines's account, if you please. "

Miss Edwards was a good while making it out; but it was ready at last. He thrust it into his pocket, without daring to look at it there; buthe went into Verrey's, and asked for a cup of coffee, and perused thedocument. 

The principal items were as follows:--

 May 4. Re-shaping and repairing elegant lace mantle, 1 8 Chip bonnet, feather, and flowers . . . . 4 4 May 20. Making and trimming blue silk dress--material part found . . . . . . . . . . . 19 19 Five yards rich blue silk to match. . . . 4 2 June 1. Polonaise and jacket trimmed with lace-- material part found . . . . . . . . 17 17 June 8. One black silk dress, handsomely trimmed with jet guipure and lace . . . . . . 49 18

A few shreds and fragments of finery, bought at odd times, swelled thebill to L99 11s. 6d. --not to terrify the female mind with three figures. 

And let no unsophisticated young lady imagine that the trimmings, whichconstituted three-fourths of this bill, were worth anything. The word"lace, " in Madame Cie's bill, invariably meant machine-made trash, worth tenpence a yard, but charged eighteen shillings a yard for onepennyworth of work in putting it on. Where real lace was used, MadameCie always LET HER CUSTOMERS KNOW IT. Miss Lucas's bill for this yearcontained the two following little items:--

 Rich gros de cecile polonaise and jacket to match, trimmed with Chantilly lace and valenciennes . . . 68 5 Superb robe de chambre, richly trimmed with skunk fur. 40 0

The customer found the stuff; viz. , two shawls. Carolina found the nastylittle pole-cats, and got twenty-four shillings for them; Madame Ciefound THE REST. 

But Christopher Staines had not Miss Lucas's bill to compare his wife'swith. He could only compare the latter with their income, and with malenotions of common sense and reason. 

He went home, and into his studio, and sat down on his hard beech chair;he looked round on his books and his work, and then, for the first time, remembered how long and how patiently he had toiled for every hundredpounds he had made; and he laid the evidences of his wife's profusionand deceit by the side of those signs of painful industry andself-denial, and his soul filled with bitterness. "Deceit! deceit!"

Mrs. Staines heard he was in the house, and came to know about thetrial. She came hurriedly in, and caught him with his head on the table, in an attitude of prostration, quite new to him; he raised his headdirectly he heard her, and revealed a face, pale, stern, and wretched. 

"Oh! what is the matter now?" said she. 

"The matter is what it has always been, if I could only have seen it. You have deceived me, and disgraced yourself. Look at those bills. "

"What bills? Oh!"

"You have had an allowance for housekeeping. "

"It wasn't enough. "

"It was plenty, if you had kept faith with me, and paid ready money. Itwas enough for the first five weeks. I am housekeeper now, and I shallallow myself two pounds a week less, and not owe a shilling either. "

"Well, all I know is, I couldn't do it: no woman could. "

"Then, you should have come to me, and said so; and I would have shownyou how. Was I in Egypt, or at the North Pole, that you could not findme, to treat me like a friend? You have ruined us: these debts willsweep away the last shilling of our little capital; but it isn't that, oh, no! it is the miserable deceit. "

Rosa's eye caught the sum total of Madame Cie's bill, and she turnedpale. "Oh, what a cheat that woman is!"

But she turned paler when Christopher said, "That is the one honestbill; for I gave you leave. It is these that part us: these! these! Lookat them, false heart! There, go and pack up your things. We can livehere no longer; we are ruined. I must send you back to your father. "

"I thought you would, sooner or later, " said Mrs. Staines, panting, trembling, but showing a little fight. "He told you I wasn't fit to be apoor man's wife. "

"An honest man's wife, you mean: that is what you are not fit for. Youwill go home to your father, and I shall go into some humble lodging towork for you. I'll contrive to keep you, and find you a hundred a yearto spend in dress--the only thing your heart can really love. But Iwon't have an enemy here in the disguise of a friend; and I won't have awife about me I must treat like a servant, and watch like a traitor. "

The words were harsh, but the agony with which they were spokendistinguished them from vulgar vituperation. 

They overpowered poor Rosa; she had been ailing a little some time, andfrom remorse and terror, coupled with other causes, nature gave way. Herlips turned white, she gasped inarticulately, and, with a little piteousmoan, tottered, and swooned dead away. 

He was walking wildly about, ready to tear his hair, when she tottered;he saw her just in time to save her, and laid her gently on the floor, and kneeled over her. 

Away went anger and every other feeling but love and pity for the poor, weak creature that, with all her faults, was so lovable and so loved. 

He applied no remedies at first: he knew they were useless andunnecessary. He laid her head quite low, and opened door and window, andloosened all her dress, sighing deeply all the time at her condition. 

While he was thus employed, suddenly a strange cry broke from him: a cryof horror, remorse, joy, tenderness, all combined: a cry compared withwhich language is inarticulate. His swift and practical eye had made adiscovery. 

He kneeled over her, with his eyes dilating and his hands clasped, apicture of love and tender remorse. 

She stirred. 

Then he made haste, and applied his remedies, and brought her slowlyback to life; he lifted her up, and carried her in his arms quite awayfrom the bills and things, that, when she came to, she might see nothingto revive her distress. He carried her to the drawing-room, and kneeleddown and rocked her in his arms, and pressed her again and again gentlyto his heart, and cried over her. "O my dove, my dove! the tendercreature God gave me to love and cherish, and have I used it harshly? IfI had only known! if I had only known!"

While he was thus bemoaning her, and blaming himself, and crying overher like the rain, --he, whom she had never seen shed a tear before inall his troubles, --she was coming to entirely, and her quick ears caughthis words, and she opened her lovely eyes on him. 

"I forgive you, dear, " she said feebly. "BUT I HOPE YOU WILL BE A KINDERFATHER THAN A HUSBAND. "

These quiet words, spoken with rare gravity and softness, went throughthe great heart like a knife. 

He gave a sort of shiver, but said not a word. 

But that night he made a solemn vow to God that no harsh word from hislips should ever again strike a being so weak, so loving, and so beyondhis comprehension. Why look for courage and candor in a creature sotimid and shy, she could not even tell her husband THAT until, with hersubtle sense, she saw he had discovered it?

CHAPTER XII. 

To be a father; to have an image of his darling Rosa, and a fruit oftheir love to live and work for: this gave the sore heart a heavenlyglow, and elasticity to bear. Should this dear object be born to aninheritance of debt, of poverty? Never. 

He began to act as if he was even now a father. He entreated Rosa not totrouble or vex herself; he would look into their finances, and set allstraight. 

He paid all the bills, and put by a quarter's rent and taxes. Then thereremained of his little capital just ten pounds. 

He went to his printers, and had a thousand order-checks printed. Theseforms ran thus:--

"Dr. Staines, of 13 Dear Street, Mayfair (blank for date), orders of(blank here for tradesman and goods ordered), for cash. Received sametime (blank for tradesman's receipt). Notice: Dr. Staines disowns allorders not printed on this form, and paid for at date of order. "

He exhibited these forms, and warned all the tradespeople, before awitness whom he took round for that purpose. 

He paid off Pearman on the spot. Pearman had met Clara, dressed like apauper, her soldier having emptied her box to the very dregs, and he nowoffered to stay. But it was too late. 

Staines told the cook Mrs. Staines was in delicate health, and must notbe troubled with anything. She must come to him for all orders. 

"Yes, sir, " said she. But she no sooner comprehended the check systemfully than she gave warning. It put a stop to her wholesale pilfering. Rosa's cooks had made fully a hundred pounds out of her amongst themsince she began to keep accounts. 

Under the male housekeeper every article was weighed on delivery, andthis soon revealed that the butcher and the fishmonger had habituallydelivered short weight from the first, besides putting down the samething twice. The things were sent back that moment, with a printed form, stating the nature and extent of the fraud. 

The washerwoman, who had been pilfering wholesale so long as Mrs. Staines and her sloppy-headed maids counted the linen, and then forgotit, was brought up with a run, by triplicate forms, and by Stainescounting the things before two witnesses, and compelling the washerwomanto count them as well, and verify or dispute on the spot. The laundressgave warning--a plain confession that stealing had been part of hertrade. 

He kept the house well for three pounds a week, exclusive of coals, candles, and wine. His wife had had five pounds, and whatever she askedfor dinner-parties, yet found it not half enough upon her method. 

He kept no coachman. If he visited a patient, a man in the yard drovehim at a shilling per hour. 

By these means, and by working like a galley slave, he dragged hisexpenditure down almost to a level with his income. 

Rosa was quite content at first, and thought herself lucky to escapereproaches on such easy terms. 

But by and by so rigorous a system began to gall her. One day shefancied a Bath bun; sent the new maid to the pastry-cook's. Pastry-cookasked to see the doctor's order. Maid could not show it, and came backbunless. 

Rosa came into the study to complain to her husband. 

"A Bath bun, " said Staines. "Why, they are colored with annotto, tosave an egg, and annotto is adulterated with chromates that are poison. Adulteration upon adulteration. I'll make you a real Bath bun. " Offcoat, and into the kitchen, and made her three, pure, but rather heavy. He brought them her in due course. She declined them languidly. She wasoff the notion, as they say in Scotland. 

"If I can't have a thing when I want it, I don't care for it at all. "Such was the principle she laid down for his future guidance. 

He sighed, and went back to his work; she cleared the plate. 

One day, when she asked for the carriage, he told her the time was nowcome for her to leave off carriage exercise. She must walk with himevery day, instead. 

"But I don't like walking. "

"I am sorry for that. But it is necessary to you, and by and by yourlife may depend on it. "

Quietly, but inexorably, he dragged her out walking every day. 

In one of these walks she stopped at a shop window, and fell in lovewith some baby's things. "Oh! I must have that, " said she. "I must. Ishall die if I don't; you'll see now. "

"You shall, " said he, "when I can pay for it, " and drew her away. 

The tears of disappointment stood in her eyes, and his heart yearnedover her. But he kept his head. 

He changed the dinner hour to six, and used to go out directlyafterwards. 

She began to complain of his leaving her alone like that. 

"Well, but wait a bit, " said he; "suppose I am making a little money byit, to buy you something you have set your heart on, poor darling!"

In a very few days after this, he brought her a little box with a slitin it. He shook it, and money rattled; then he unlocked it, and pouredout a little pile of silver. "There, " said he, "put on your bonnet, andcome and buy those things. "

She put on her bonnet, and on the way she asked how it came to be all insilver. 

"That is a puzzler, " said he, "isn't it?"

"And how did you make it, dear? by writing?"

"No. "

"By fees from the poor people?"

"What, undersell my brethren! Hang it, no! My dear, I made it honestly, and some day I will tell you how I made it; at present, all I will tellyou is this: I saw my darling longing for something she had a right tolong for; I saw the tears in her sweet eyes, and--oh, come along, do. Iam wretched till I see you with the things in your hand. "

They went to the shop; and Staines sat and watched Rosa buyingbaby-clothes. Oh, it was a pretty sight to see this modest youngcreature, little more than a child herself, anticipating maternity, butblushing every now and then, and looking askant at her lord and master. How his very bowels yearned over her!

And when they got home, she spread the things on a table, and theysat hand in hand, and looked at them, and she leaned her head on hisshoulder, and went quietly to sleep there. 

And yet, as time rolled on, she became irritable at times, andimpatient, and wanted all manner of things she could not have, and madehim unhappy. 

Then he was out from six o'clock till one, and she took it into her headto be jealous. So many hours to spend away from her! Now that she wantedall his comfort. 

Presently, Ellen, the new maid, got gossiping in the yard, and a groomtold her her master had a sweetheart on the sly, he thought; for hedrove the brougham out every evening himself; "and, " said the man, "hewears a mustache at night. "

Ellen ran in, brimful of this, and told the cook; the cook told thewasherwoman; the washerwoman told a dozen families, till about twohundred people knew it. 

At last it came to Mrs. Staines in a roundabout way, at the very momentwhen she was complaining to Lady Cicely Treherne of her hard lot. Shehad been telling her she was nothing more than a lay-figure in thehouse. 

"My husband is housekeeper now, and cook, and all, and makes medelicious dishes, I can tell you; SUCH curries! I couldn't keep thehouse with five pounds a week, so now he does it with three: and I neverget the carriage, because walking is best for me; and he takes it outevery night to make money. I don't understand it. "

Lady Cicely suggested that perhaps Dr. Staines thought it best for herto be relieved of all worry, and so undertook the housekeeping. 

"No, no, no, " said Rosa; "I used to pay them all a part of their bills, and then a little more, and so I kept getting deeper; and I was ashamedto tell Christie, so that he calls deceit; and oh, he spoke to me socruelly once! But he was very sorry afterwards, poor dear! Why are girlsbrought up so silly? all piano, and no sense; and why are men sillierstill to go and marry such silly things? A wife! I am not so much as aservant. Oh, I am finely humiliated, and, " with a sudden hearty naiveteall her own, "it serves me just right. "

While Lady Cicely was puzzling this out, in came a letter. Rosa openedit, read it, and gave a cry like a wounded deer. 

"Oh!" she cried, "I am a miserable woman. What will become of me?"

The letter informed her bluntly that her husband drove his brougham outevery night to pursue a criminal amour. 

While Rosa was wringing her hands in real anguish of heart, Lady Cicelyread the letter carefully. 

"I don't believe this, " said she quietly. 

"Not true! Why, who would be so wicked as to stab a poor, inoffensivewretch like me, if it wasn't true?"

"The first ugly woman would, in a minute. Don't you see the witercan't tell you where he goes? Dwives his bwougham out! That is all yourinfaumant knows. "

"Oh, my dear friend, bless you! What have I been complaining to youabout? All is light, except to lose his love. What shall I do? I willnever tell him. I will never affront him by saying I suspected him. "

"Wosa, if you do that, you will always have a serpent gnawing you. No;you must put the letter quietly into his hand, and say, 'Is there anytruth in that?'"

"Oh, I could not. I haven't the courage. If I do that, I shall know byhis face if there is any truth in it. "

"Well, and you must know the twuth. You shall know it. I want to knowit too; for if he does not love you twuly, I will nevaa twust myself toanything so deceitful as a man. "

Rosa at last consented to follow this advice. 

After dinner she put the letter into Christopher's hand, and asked himquietly was there any truth in that: then her hands trembled, and hereyes drank him. 

Christopher read it, and frowned; then he looked up, and said, "No, nota word. What scoundrels there are in the world! To go and tell you that, NOW! Why, you little goose! have you been silly enough to believe it?"

"No, " said she irresolutely. "But DO you drive the brougham out everynight?"

"Except Sunday. "

"Where?"

"My dear wife, I never loved you as I love you now; and if it was notfor you, I should not drive the brougham out of nights. That is all Ishall tell you at present; but some day I'll tell you all about it. "

He took such a calm high hand with her about it, that she submitted toleave it there; but from this moment the serpent doubt nibbled her. 

It had one curious effect, though. She left off complaining of trifles. 

Now it happened one night that Lady Cicely Treherne and a friend were ata concert in Hanover Square. The other lady felt rather faint, and LadyCicely offered to take her home. The carriages had not yet arrived, and Miss Macnamara said to walk a few steps would do her good: a smartcabman saw them from a distance and drove up, and touching his hat said, "Cab, ladies?"

It seemed a very superior cab, and Miss Macnamara said "Yes" directly. 

The cabman bustled down and opened the door; Miss Macnamara got infirst, then Lady Cicely; her eye fell on the cabman's face, which waslighted full by a street-lamp, and it was Christopher Staines!

He started and winced; but the woman of the world never moved a muscle. 

"Where to?" said Staines, averting his head. 

She told him where, and when they got out, said, "I'll send it you bythe servant. "

A flunkey soon after appeared with half-a-crown, and the amateurcoachman drove away. He said to himself, "Come, my mustache is a betterdisguise than I thought. "

Next day, and the day after, he asked Rosa, with affected carelessness, had she heard anything of Lady Cicely. 

"No, dear; but I dare say she will call this afternoon: it is her day. "

She did call at last, and after a few words with Rosa, became a littlerestless, and asked if she might consult Dr. Staines. 

"Certainly, dear. Come to his studio. "

"No; might I see him here?"

"Certainly. " She rang the bell, and told the servant to ask Dr. Stainesif he would be kind enough to step into the drawing-room. 

Dr. Staines came in, and bowed to Lady Cicely, and eyed her a littleuncomfortably. 

She began, however, in a way that put him quite at his ease. "Youremember the advice you gave us about my little cousin Tadcastah. "

"Perfectly: his life is very precarious; he is bilious, consumptive, and, if not watched, will be epileptical; and he has a fond, weakmother, who will let him kill himself. "

"Exactly: and you wecommended a sea voyage, with a medical attendant towatch his diet, and contwol his habits. Well, she took other advice, andthe youth is worse; so now she is fwightened, and a month ago she askedme to pwopose to you to sail about with Tadcastah; and she offered mea thousand pounds a year. I put on my stiff look, and said, 'Countess, with every desiah to oblige you, I must decline to cawwy that offah to aman of genius, learning, and weputation, who has the ball at his feet inLondon. '"

"Lord forgive you, Lady Cicely. "

"Lord bless her for standing up for my Christie. "

Lady Cicely continued: "Now, this good lady, you must know, is notexactly one of us: the late earl mawwied into cotton, or wool, orsomething. So she said, 'Name your price for him. ' I shwugged myshoulders, smiled affably, and as affectedly as you like, and changedthe subject. But since then things have happened. I am afwaid it is myduty to make you the judge whether you choose to sail about with thatlittle cub--Rosa, I can beat about the bush no longer. Is it a fit thingthat a man of genius, at whose feet we ought all to be sitting withreverence, should drive a cab in the public streets? Yes, Rosa Staines, your husband drives his brougham out at night, not to visit any otherlady, as that anonymous wretch told you, but to make a few misewableshillings for you. "

"Oh, Christie!"

"It is no use, Dr. Staines; I must and will tell her. My dear, he droveME three nights ago. He had a cabman's badge on his poor arm. If youknew what I suffered in those five minutes! Indeed it seems cruel tospeak of it--but I could not keep it from Rosa, and the reason I mustercourage to say it before you, sir, it is because I know she has otherfriends who keep you out of their consultations; and, after all, it isthe world that ought to blush, and not you. "

Her ladyship's kindly bosom heaved, and she wanted to cry; so she tookher handkerchief out of her pocket without the least hurry, andpressed it delicately to her eyes, and did cry quietly, but without anydisguise, like a brave lady, who neither cried nor did anything else shewas ashamed to be seen at. 

As for Rosa, she sat sobbing round Christopher's neck, and kissed himwith all her soul. 

"Dear me!" said Christopher. "You are both very kind. But, begging yourpardon, it is much ado about nothing. "

Lady Cicely took no notice of that observation. "So, Rosa dear, " saidshe, "I think you are the person to decide whether he had not bettersail about with that little cub, than--oh!"

"I will settle that, " said Staines. "I have one beloved creature toprovide for. I may have another. I MUST make money. Turning a broughaminto a cab, whatever you may think, is an honest way of making it, andI am not the first doctor who has coined his brougham at night. But ifthere is a good deal of money to be made by sailing with Lord Tadcaster, of course I should prefer that to cab-driving, for I have never madeabove twelve shillings a night. "

"Oh, as to that, she shall give you fifteen hundred a year. "

"Then I jump at it. "

"What! and leave ME?"

"Yes, love: leave you--for your good; and only for a time. Lady Cicely, it is a noble offer. My darling Rosa will have every comfort--ay, everyluxury, till I come home, and then we will start afresh with a goodbalance, and with more experience than we did at first. "

Lady Cicely gazed on him with wonder. She said, "Oh! what stout heartsmen have! No, no; don't let him go. See; he is acting. His great heartis torn with agony. I will have no hand in parting man and wife--no, notfor a day. " And she hurried away in rare agitation. 

Rosa fell on her knees, and asked Christopher's pardon for having beenjealous; and that day she was a flood of divine tenderness. She repaidhim richly for driving the cab. But she was unnaturally cool about LadyCicely; and the exquisite reason soon came out. "Oh yes! She is verygood; very kind; but it is not for me now! No! you shall not sail aboutwith her cub of a cousin, and leave me at such a time. "

Christopher groaned. 

"Christie, you shall not see that lady again. She came here to part us. SHE IS IN LOVE WITH YOU. I was blind not to see it before. "

Next day, as Lady Cicely sat alone in the morning-room thinking overthis very scene, a footman brought in a card and a note. "Dr. Stainesbegs particularly to see Lady Cicely Treherne. "

The lady's pale cheek colored; she stood irresolute a single moment. "Iwill see Dr. Staines, " said she. 

Dr. Staines came in, looking pale and worn; he had not slept a winksince she saw him last. 

She looked at him full, and divined this at a glance. She motionedhim to a seat, and sat down herself, with her white hand pressing herforehead, and her head turned a little away from him. 

CHAPTER XIII. 

He told her he had come to thank her for her great kindness, and toaccept the offer. 

She sighed. "I hoped it was to decline it. Think of the misery ofseparation, both to you and her. "

"It will be misery. But we are not happy as it is, and she cannot bearpoverty. Nor is it fair she should, when I can give her every comfort byjust playing the man for a year or two. " He then told Lady Cicely therewere more reasons than he chose to mention: go he must, and would; andhe implored her not to let the affair drop. In short, he was sad butresolved, and she found she must go on with it, or break faith with him. She took her desk, and wrote a letter concluding the bargain for him. She stipulated for half the year's fee in advance. She read Dr. Stainesthe letter. 

"You ARE a friend!" said he. "I should never have ventured on that; itwill be a godsend to my poor Rosa. You will be kind to her when I amgone?"

"I will. "

"So will Uncle Philip, I think. I will see him before I go, and shakehands. He has been a good friend to me; but he was too hard upon HER;and I could not stand that. "

Then he thanked and blessed her again, with the tears in his eyes, andleft her more disturbed and tearful than she had ever been since shegrew to woman. "O cruel poverty!" she thought, "that such a man shouldbe torn from his home, and thank me for doing it--all for a littlemoney--and here are we poor commonplace creatures rolling in it. "

Staines hurried home, and told his wife. She clung to him convulsively, and wept bitterly; but she made no direct attempt to shake hisresolution; she saw, by his iron look, that she could only afflict, notturn him. 

Next day came Lady Cicely to see her. Lady Cicely was very uneasy in hermind, and wanted to know whether Rosa was reconciled to the separation. 

Rosa received her with a forced politeness and an icy coldness thatpetrified her. She could not stay long in face of such a reception. Atparting, she said, sadly, "You look on me as an enemy. "

"What else can you expect, when you part my husband and me?" said Rosa, with quiet sternness. 

"I meant well, " said Lady Cicely sorrowfully; "but I wish I had neverinterfered. "

"So do I, " and she began to cry. 

Lady Cicely made no answer. She went quietly away, hanging her headsadly. 

Rosa was unjust, but she was not rude nor vulgar; and Lady Cicely'stemper was so well governed that it never blinded her heart. Shewithdrew, but without the least idea of quarrelling with her afflictedfriend, or abandoning her. She went quietly home, and wrote to Lady----, to say that she should be glad to receive Dr. Staines's advanceas soon as convenient, since Mrs. Staines would have to make fresharrangements, and the money might be useful. 

The money was forthcoming directly. Lady Cicely brought it to DearStreet, and handed it to Dr. Staines. His eyes sparkled at the sight ofit. 

"Give my love to Rosa, " said she softly, and cut her visit very short. 

Staines took the money to Rosa, and said, "See what our best friend hasbrought us. You shall have four hundred, and I hope, after the bitterlessons you have had, you will be able to do with that for some months. The two hundred I shall keep as a reserve fund for you to draw on. "

"No, no!" said Rosa. "I shall go and live with my father, and neverspend a penny. O Christie, if you knew how I hate myself for the follythat is parting us! Oh, why don't they teach girls sense and money, instead of music and the globes?"

But Christopher opened a banking account for her, and gave her acheck-book, and entreated her to pay everything by check, and run nobills whatever; and she promised. He also advertised the Bijou, and puta bill in the window: "The lease of this house, and the furniture, to besold. "

Rosa cried bitterly at sight of it, thinking how high in hope they were, when they had their first dinner there, and also when she went to herfirst sale to buy the furniture cheap. 

And now everything moved with terrible rapidity. The Amphitrite was tosail from Plymouth in five days; and, meantime, there was so much to bedone, that the days seemed to gallop away. 

Dr. Staines forgot nothing. He made his will in duplicate, leaving allto his wife; he left one copy at Doctors' Commons and another with hislawyer; inventoried all his furniture and effects in duplicate, too;wrote to Uncle Philip, and then called on him to seek a reconciliation. Unfortunately, Dr. Philip was in Scotland. At last this sad pair wentdown to Plymouth together, there to meet Lord Tadcaster and go on boardH. M. S. Amphitrite, lying out at anchor, under orders for the AustralianStation. 

They met at the inn, as appointed; and sent word of their arrival onboard the frigate, asking to remain on shore till the last minute. 

Dr. Staines presented his patient to Rosa; and after a little while drewhim apart and questioned him professionally. He then asked for a privateroom. Here he and Rosa really took leave; for what could the poor thingssay to each other on a crowded quay? He begged her forgiveness, on hisknees, for having once spoken harshly to her, and she told him, withpassionate sobs, he had never spoken harshly to her; her folly it washad parted them. 

Poor wretches! they clung together with a thousand vows of love andconstancy. They were to pray for each other at the same hours: to thinkof some kind word or loving act, at other stated hours; and so theytried to fight with their suffering minds against the cruel separation;and if either should die, the other was to live wedded to memory, andnever listen to love from other lips; but no! God was pitiful; He wouldlet them meet again ere long, to part no more. They rocked in eachother's arms; they cried over each other--it was pitiful. 

At last the cruel summons came; they shuddered, as if it was theirdeath-blow. Christopher, with a face of agony, was yet himself, andwould have parted then: and so best. But Rosa could not. She would seethe last of him, and became almost wild and violent when he opposed it. 

Then he let her come with him to Milbay Steps; but into the boat hewould not let her step. 

The ship's boat lay at the steps, manned by six sailors, all seated, with their oars tossed in two vertical rows. A smart middy in chargeconducted them, and Dr. Staines and Lord Tadcaster got in, leaving Rosa, in charge of her maid, on the quay. 

"Shove off"--"Down"--"Give way. "

Each order was executed so swiftly and surely that, in as many seconds, the boat was clear, the oars struck the water with a loud splash, andthe husband was shot away like an arrow, and the wife's despairing cryrang on the stony quay, as many a poor woman's cry had rung before. 

In half a minute the boat shot under the stern of the frigate. 

They were received on the quarter-deck by Captain Hamilton: heintroduced them to the officers--a torture to poor Staines, to have hismind taken for a single instant from his wife--the first lieutenant cameaft, and reported, "Ready for making sail, sir. "

Staines seized the excuse, rushed to the other side of the vessel, leaned over the taffrail, as if he would fly ashore, and stretched outhis hands to his beloved Rosa; and she stretched out her hands to him. They were so near, he could read the expression of her face. It was wildand troubled, as one who did not yet realize the terrible situation, butwould not be long first. 

"HANDS MAKE SAIL--AWAY, ALOFT--UP ANCHOR"--rang in Christopher's ear, asif in a dream. All his soul and senses were bent on that desolate youngcreature. How young and amazed her lovely face! Yet this bewilderedchild was about to become a mother. Even a stranger's heart might haveyearned with pity for her: how much more her miserable husband's!

The capstan was manned, and worked to a merry tune that struck chill tothe bereaved; yards were braced for casting, anchor hove, catted, andfished, sail was spread with amazing swiftness, the ship's head dipped, and slowly and gracefully paid off towards the breakwater, and she stoodout to sea under swiftly-swelling canvas and a light north-westerlybreeze. 

Staines only felt the motion: his body was in the ship, his soul withhis Rosa. He gazed, he strained his eyes to see her eyes, as the shipglided from England and her. While he was thus gazing and trembling allover, up came to him a smart second lieutenant, with a brilliant voicethat struck him like a sword. "Captain's orders to show you berths;please choose for Lord Tadcaster and yourself. "

The man's wild answer made the young officer stare. "Oh, sir! notnow--try and do my duty when I have quite lost her--my poor wife--achild--a mother--there--sir--on the steps--there!--there!"

Now this officer always went to sea singing "Oh be joyful. " But a strongman's agony, who can make light of it? It was a revelation to him; buthe took it quickly. The first thing he did, being a man of action, wasto dash into his cabin, and come back with a short, powerful doubleglass. "There!" said he roughly, but kindly, and shoved it intoStaines's hand. He took it, stared at it stupidly, then used it, withouta word of thanks, so wrapped was he in his anguish. 

This glass prolonged the misery of that bitter hour. When Rosa could nolonger tell her husband from another, she felt he was really gone, andshe threw her hands aloft, and clasped them above her head, with thewild abandon of a woman who could never again be a child; and Stainessaw it, and a sharp sigh burst from him, and he saw her maid and othersgather round her. He saw the poor young thing led away, with her headall down, as he had never seen her before, and supported to the inn; andthen he saw her no more. 

His heart seemed to go out of his bosom in search of her, and leavenothing but a stone behind: he hung over the taffrail like a dead thing. A steady foot-fall slapped his ear. He raised his white face and filmyeyes, and saw Lieutenant Fitzroy marching to and fro like a sentinel, keeping everybody away from the mourner, with the steady, resolute, business-like face of a man in whom sentiment is confined to action; itsphrases and its flourishes being literally terra incognita to the honestfellow. 

Staines staggered towards him, holding out both hands, and gasped out, "God bless you. Hide me somewhere--must not be seen SO--got duty todo--Patient--can't do it yet--one hour to draw my breath--oh, my God, myGod!--one hour, sir. Then do my duty, if I die--as you would. "

Fitzroy tore him down into his own cabin, shut him in and ran to thefirst lieutenant, with a tear in his eye. "Can I have a sentry, sir?"

"Sentry! What for?"

"The doctor--awfully cut up at leaving his wife: got him in my cabin. Wants to have his cry to himself. "

"Fancy a fellow crying at going to sea!"

"It is not that, sir; it is leaving his wife. "

"Well, is he the only man on board that has got a wife?"

"Why, no, sir. It is odd, now I think of it. Perhaps he has only gotthat ONE. "

"Curious creatures, landsmen, " said the first lieutenant. "However, youcan stick a marine there. "

"And I say, show the YOUNGSTER the berths, and let him choose, as thedoctor's aground. "

"Yes, sir. "

So Fitzoy planted his marine, and then went after Lord Tadcaster: he haddrawn up alongside his cousin, Captain Hamilton. The captain, being anadmirer of Lady Cicely, was mighty civil to his little lordship, andtalked to him more than was his wont on the quarterdeck; for thoughhe had a good flow of conversation, and dispensed with ceremony in hiscabin, he was apt to be rather short on deck. However, he told littleTadcaster he was fortunate; they had a good start, and, if the windheld, might hope to be clear of the Channel in twenty-four hours. "Youwill see Eddystone lighthouse about four bells, " said he. 

"Shall we go out of sight of land altogether?" inquired his lordship. 

"Of course we shall, and the sooner the better. " He then explained tothe novice that the only danger to a good ship was from the land. 

While Tadcaster was digesting this paradox, Captain Hamilton proceededto descant on the beauties of blue water and its fine medicinalqualities, which, he said, were particularly suited to young gentlemenwith bilious stomachs, but presently, catching sight of LieutenantFitzroy standing apart, but with the manner of a lieutenant not there byaccident, he stopped, and said, civilly but smartly, "Well, sir?"

Fitzroy came forward directly, saluted, and said he had orders from thefirst lieutenant to show Lord Tadcaster the berths. His lordship must begood enough to choose, because the doctor--couldn't. 

"Why not?"

"Brought to, sir--for the present--by--well, by grief. "

"Brought to by grief! Who the deuce is grief? No riddles on thequarter-deck, if you please, sir. "

"Oh no, sir. I assure you he is awfully cut up; and he is having his cryout in my cabin. "

"Having his cry out! why, what for?"

"Leaving his wife, sir. "

"Oh, is that all?"

"Well, I don't wonder, " cried little Tadcaster warmly. "She is, oh, so beautiful!" and a sudden blush o'erspread his pasty cheeks. "Why onearth didn't we bring her along with us here?" said he, suddenly openinghis eyes with astonishment at the childish omission. 

"Why, indeed?" said the captain comically, and dived below, attended bythe well-disciplined laughter of Lieutenant Fitzroy, who was too goodan officer not to be amused at his captain's jokes. Having acquittedhimself of that duty--and it is a very difficult one sometimes--hetook Lord Tadcaster to the main-deck, and showed him two comfortablesleeping-berths that had been screened off for him and Dr. Staines; oneof these was fitted with a standing bed-place, the other had a cotswung in it. Fitzroy offered him the choice, but hinted that he himselfpreferred a cot. 

"No, thank you, " says my lord mighty dryly. 

"All right, " said Fitzroy cheerfully. "Take the other, then, my lord. "

His little lordship cocked his eye like a jackdaw, and looked almost ascunning. "You see, " said he, "I have been reading up for this voyage. "

"Oh, indeed! Logarithms?"

"Of course not. "

"What then?"

"Why, 'Peter Simple'--to be sure. "

"Ah, ha!" said Fitzroy, with a chuckle that showed plainly he had somedelicious reminiscences of youthful study in the same quarter. 

The little lord chuckled too, and put one finger on Fitzroy's shoulder, and pointed at the cot with another. "Tumble out the other side, youknow--slippery hitches--cords cut--down you come flop in the middle ofthe night. "

Fitzroy's eye flashed merriment: but only for a moment. His countenancefell the next. "Lord bless you, " said he sorrowfully, "all that gameis over now. Her Majesty's ship!--it is a church afloat. The service isgoing to the devil, as the old fogies say. "

"Ain't you sorry?" says the little lord, cocking his eye again like thebird hereinbefore mentioned. 

"Of course I am. "

"Then I'll take the standing bed. "

"All right. I say, you don't mind the doctor coming down with a run, eh?"

"He is not ill: I am. He is paid to take care of me: I am not paid totake care of him, " said the young lord sententiously. 

"I understand, " replied Fitzroy, dryly. "Well, every one for himself, and Providence for us all--as the elephant said when he danced among thechickens. "

Here my lord was summoned to dine with the captain. Staines was notthere; but he had not forgotten his duty; in the midst of his grief hehad written a note to the captain, hoping that a bereaved husband mightnot seem to desert his post if he hid for a few hours the sorrow hefelt himself unable to control. Meantime he would be grateful if CaptainHamilton would give orders that Lord Tadcaster should eat no pastry, anddrink only six ounces of claret, otherwise he should feel that he wasindeed betraying his trust. 

The captain was pleased and touched with this letter. It recalled to himhow his mother sobbed when she launched her little middy, swelling withhis first cocked hat and dirk. 

There was champagne at dinner, and little Tadcaster began to pour out atumbler. "Hold on!" said Captain Hamilton; "you are not to drink that;"and he quietly removed the tumbler. "Bring him six ounces of claret. "

While they were weighing the claret with scientific precision, Tadcasterremonstrated; and, being told it was the doctor's order, he squeakedout, "Confound him! why did not he stay with his wife? She isbeautiful. " Nor did he give it up without a struggle. "Here'shospitality!" said he. "Six ounces!"

Receiving no reply, he inquired of the third lieutenant, which wasgenerally considered the greatest authority in a ship--the captain, orthe doctor. 

The third lieutenant answered not, but turned his head away, and, byviolent exertion, succeeded in not splitting. 

"I'll answer that, " said Hamilton politely. "The captain is the highestin his department, and the doctor in his: now Doctor Staines is strictlywithin his department, and will be supported by me and my officers. Youare bilious, and epileptical, and all the rest of it, and you are to becured by diet and blue water. "

Tadcaster was inclined to snivel: however, he subdued that weakness witha visible effort, and, in due course, returned to the charge. "How wouldyou look, " quavered he, "if there was to be a mutiny in this ship ofyours, and I was to head it?'

"Well, I should look SHARP--hang all the ringleaders at the yardarm, clap the rest under hatches, and steer for the nearest prison. "

"Oh!" said Tadcaster, and digested this scheme a bit. At last he perkedup again, and made his final hit. "Well, I shouldn't care, for one, ifyou didn't flog us. "

"In that case, " said Captain Hamilton, "I'd flog you--and stop your sixounces. "

"Then curse the sea; that is all I say. "

"Why, you have not seen it; you have only seen the British Channel. " Itwas Mr. Fitzroy who contributed this last observation. 

After dinner all but the captain went on deck, and saw the Eddystonelighthouse ahead and to leeward. They passed it. Fitzroy told hislordship its story, and that of its unfortunate predecessors. Soon afterthis Lord Tadcaster turned in. 

Presently the captain observed a change in the thermometer, whichbrought him on deck. He scanned the water and the sky, and as theseexperienced commanders have a subtle insight into the weather, especially in familiar latitudes, he remarked to the first lieutenantthat it looked rather unsettled; and, as a matter of prudence, ordereda reef in the topsails, and the royal yards to be sent down: ship to besteered W. By S. This done, he turned in, but told them to call him ifthere was any change in the weather. 

During the night the wind gradually headed; and at four bells in themiddle watch a heavy squall came up from the south-west. 

This brought the captain on deck again: he found the officer of thewatch at his post, and at work. Sail was shortened, and the ship madesnug for heavy weather. 

At four A. M. It was blowing hard, and, being too near the French coast, they wore the ship. 

Now, this operation was bad for little Tadcaster. While the vessel wason the starboard tack, the side kept him snug; but, when they wore her, of course he had no leeboard to keep him in. The ship gave a lee-lurch, and shot him clean out of his bunk into the middle of the cabin. 

He shrieked and shrieked, with terror and pain, till the captain andStaines, who were his nearest neighbors, came to him, and they gave hima little brandy, and got him to bed again. Here he suffered nothing butviolent seasickness for some hours. As for Staines, he had been swingingheavily in his cot; but such was his mental distress that he would havewelcomed seasickness, or any reasonable bodily suffering. He was in thatstate when the sting of a wasp is a touch of comfort. 

Worn out with sickness, Tadcaster would not move. Invited to breakfast, he swore faintly, and insisted on dying in peace. At last exhaustiongave him a sort of sleep, in spite of the motion, which was violent, forit was now blowing great guns, a heavy sea on, and the great waves dirtyin color and crested with raging foam. 

They had to wear ship again, always a ticklish manoeuvre in weather likethis. 

A tremendous sea struck her quarter, stove in the very port abreast ofwhich the little lord was lying, and washed him clean out of bed intothe lee scuppers, and set all swimming around him. 

Didn't he yell, and wash about the cabin, and grab at all the chairsand tables and things that drifted about, nimble as eels, avoiding hisgrasp!

In rushed the captain, and in staggered Staines. They stopped his"voyage autour de sa chambre, " and dragged him into the after saloon. 

He clung to them by turns, and begged, with many tears, to be put on thenearest land; a rock would do. 

"Much obliged, " said the captain; "now is the very time to give rocks awide berth. "

"A dead whale, then--a lighthouse--anything but a beast of a ship. "

They pacified him with a little brandy, and for the next twenty-fourhours he scarcely opened his mouth, except for a purpose it isneedless to dwell on. We can trust to our terrestrial readers' personalreminiscences of lee-lurches, weather-rolls, and their faithfulconcomitant. 

At last they wriggled out of the Channel, and soon after that the windabated, and next day veered round to the northward, and the ship sailedalmost on an even keel. The motion became as heavenly as it had beendiabolical, and the passengers came on deck. 

Staines had suffered one whole day from sea-sickness, but nevercomplained. I believe it did his mind more good than harm. 

As for Tadcaster, he continued to suffer, at intervals, for two daysmore, but on the fifth day out he appeared with a little pink tingeon his cheek and a wolfish appetite. Dr. Staines controlled his dietseverely, as to quality, and, when they had been at sea just elevendays, the physician's heavy heart was not a little lightened by themarvellous change in him. The unthinking, who believe in the drugsystem, should have seen what a physician can do with air and food, when circumstances enable him to ENFORCE the diet he enjoins. Money willsometimes buy even health, if you AVOID DRUGS ENTIRELY, and go anotherroad. 

Little Tadcaster went on board, pasty, dim-eyed, and very subject tofits, because his stomach was constantly overloaded with indigestibletrash, and the blood in his brain-vessels was always either galloping orcreeping, under the first or second effect of stimulants administered, at first, by thoughtless physicians. Behold him now--bronzed, pinky, bright-eyed, elastic; and only one fit in twelve days. 

The quarter-deck was hailed from the "look-out" with a cry that issometimes terrible, but in this latitude and weather welcome andexciting. "Land, ho!"

"Where away?" cried the officer of the watch. 

"A point on the lee-bow, sir. "

It was the island of Madeira: they dropped anchor in Funchal Roads, furled sails, squared yards, and fired a salute of twenty-one guns forthe Portuguese flag. 

They went ashore, and found a good hotel, and were no longer dosed, asin former days, with oil, onions, garlic, eggs. But the wine queer, andno madeira to be got. 

Staines wrote home to his wife: he told her how deeply he had felt thebereavement; but did not dwell on that; his object being to cheer her. He told her it promised to be a rapid and wonderful cure, and one thatmight very well give him a fresh start in London. They need not beparted a whole year, he thought. He sent her a very long letter, andalso such extracts from his sea journal as he thought might please her. After dinner they inspected the town, and what struck them most was tofind the streets paved with flag-stones, and most of the carts drawn bybullocks on sledges. A man every now and then would run forward and dropa greasy cloth in front of the sledge, to lubricate the way. 

Next day, after breakfast, they ordered horses; these on inspection, proved to be of excellent breed, either from Australia or America--veryrough shod, for the stony roads. Started for the Grand Canal--peepeddown that mighty chasm, which has the appearance of an immense masshaving been blown out of the centre of the mountain. 

They lunched under the great dragon tree near its brink, then rode backadmiring the bold mountain scenery. Next morning at dawn, rode on horsesup the hill to the convent. Admired the beautiful gardens on the way. Remained a short time; then came down in hand-sleighs--little basketsslung on sledges, guided by two natives; these sledges run down thehill with surprising rapidity, and the men guide them round corners bysticking out a foot to port or starboard. 

Embarked at 11. 30 A. M. 

At 1. 30, the men having dined, the ship was got under way for the Capeof Good Hope, and all sail made for a southerly course, to get into thenorth-east trades. 

The weather was now balmy and delightful, and so genial that everybodylived on deck, and could hardly be got to turn in to their cabins, evenfor sleep. 

Dr. Staines became a favorite with the officers. There is a great dealof science on board a modern ship of war, and, of course, on some pointsStaines, a Cambridge wrangler, and a man of many sciences and books, wasan oracle. On others he was quite behind, but a ready and quick pupil. He made up to the navigating officer, and learned, with his help, totake observations. In return he was always at any youngster's servicein a trigonometrical problem; and he amused the midshipmen and younglieutenants with analytical tests; some of these were applicable tocertain liquids dispensed by the paymaster. Under one of them theport wine assumed some very droll colors and appearances not proper togrape-juice. 

One lovely night that the ship clove the dark sea into a blaze ofphosphorescence, and her wake streamed like a comet's tail, a waggishmiddy got a bucketful hoisted on deck, and asked the doctor to analyzethat. He did not much like it, but yielded to the general request; andby dividing it into smaller vessels, and dropping in various chemicals, made rainbows and silvery flames and what not. But he declined to repeatthe experiment: "No, no; once is philosophy; twice is cruelty. I'veslain more than Samson already. "

As for Tadcaster, science had no charms for him; but fiction had; andhe got it galore; for he cruised about the forecastle, and there thequartermasters and old seamen spun him yarns that held him breathless. 

But one day my lord had a fit on the quarter-deck, and a bad one; andStaines found him smelling strong of rum. He represented this to CaptainHamilton. The captain caused strict inquiries to be made, and it cameout that my lord had gone among the men, with money in both pockets, andbought a little of one man's grog, and a little of another, and had beensipping the furtive but transient joys of solitary intoxication. 

Captain Hamilton talked to him seriously; told him it was suicide. 

"Never mind, old boy, " said the young monkey; "a short life and a merryone. "

Then Hamilton represented that it was very ungentleman-like to go andtempt poor Jack with his money, to offend discipline, and get flogged. "How will you feel, Tadcaster, when you see their backs bleeding underthe cat?"

"Oh, d--n it all, George, don't do that, " says the young gentleman, allin a hurry. 

Then the commander saw he had touched the right chord. So he played onit, till he got Lord Tadcaster to pledge his honor not to do it again. 

The little fellow gave the pledge, but relieved his mind as follows:"But it is a cursed tyrannical hole, this tiresome old ship. You can'tdo what you like in it. "

"Well, but no more you can in the grave: and that is the agreeableresidence you were hurrying to but for this tiresome old ship. "

"Lord! no more you can, " said Tadcaster, with sudden candor. "I FORGOTTHAT. "

The airs were very light; the ship hardly moved. It was beginning to getdull, when one day a sail was sighted on the weather-bow, standing tothe eastward: on nearing her, she was seen, by the cut of her sails, tobe a man-of-war, evidently homeward bound: so Captain Hamilton orderedthe main-royal to be lowered (to render signal more visible) and the"demand" hoisted. No notice being taken of this, a gun was fired to drawher attention to the signal. This had the desired effect; down went hermain-royal, up went her "number. " On referring to the signal book, sheproved to be the Vindictive from the Pacific Station. 

This being ascertained, Captain Hamilton, being that captain's senior, signalled "Close and prepare to receive letters. " In obedience to thisshe bore up, ran down, and rounded to; the sail in the Amphitrite wasalso shortened, the maintopsail laid to the mast, and a boat lowered. The captain having finished his despatches, they, with the letter-bags, were handed into the boat, which shoved off, pulled to the lee sideof the Vindictive, and left the despatches, with Captain Hamilton'scompliments. On its return, both ships made sail on their respectivecourse, exchanging "bon voyage" by signal, and soon the upper sails ofthe homeward-bounder were seen dipping below the horizon: longing eyesfollowed her on board the Amphitrite. 

How many hurried missives had been written and despatched in thathalf-hour. But as for Staines, he was a man of forethought, and had avolume ready for his dear wife. 

Lord Tadcaster wrote to Lady Cicely Treherne. His epistle, though brief, contained a plum or two. 

He wrote: "What with sailing, and fishing, and eating nothing but roastmeat, I'm quite another man. "

This amused her ladyship a little, but not so much as the postscript, which was indeed the neatest thing in its way she had met with, and shehad some experience, too. 

"P. S. --I say, Cicely, I think I should like to marry you. Would youmind?"

Let us defy time and space to give you Lady Cicely's reply: "I shouldenjoy it of all things, Taddy. But, alas! I am too young. "

N. B. --She was twenty-seven, and Tad sixteen. To be sure, Tad was fourfeet eleven, and she was only five feet six and a half. 

To return to my narrative (with apologies), this meeting of the vesselscaused a very agreeable excitement that day; but a greater was in store. In the afternoon, Tadcaster, Staines, and the principal officers of theship, being at dinner in the captain's cabin, in came the officer of thewatch, and reported a large spar on the weather-bow. 

"Well, close it, if you can; and let me know if it looks worth pickingup. "

He then explained to Lord Tadcaster that, on a cruise, he never likedto pass a spar, or anything that might possibly reveal the fate of somevessel or other. 

In the middle of his discourse the officer came in again, but not inthe same cool business way: he ran in excitedly, and said, "Captain, thesignalman reports it ALIVE!"

"Alive?--a spar! What do you mean? Something alive ON it, eh?"

"No, sir; alive itself. "

"How can that be? Hail him again. Ask him what it is. "

The officer went out, and hailed the signalman at the mast-head. "Whatis it?"

"Sea-sarpint, I think. "

This hail reached the captain's ears faintly. However, he waited quietlytill the officer came in and reported it; then he burst out, "Absurd!there is no such creature in the universe. What do you say, Dr. Staines?--It is in your department. "

"The universe in my department, captain?"

"Haw! haw! haw!" went Fitzroy and two more. 

"No, you rogue, the serpent. "

Dr. Staines, thus appealed to, asked the captain if he had ever seensmall snakes out at sea. 

"Why, of course. Sailed through a mile of them once, in thearchipelago. "

"Sure they were snakes?"

"Quite sure; and the biggest was not eight feet long. "

"Very well, captain; then sea-serpents exist, and it becomes a merequestion of size. Now which produces the larger animals in everykind, --land or sea? The grown elephant weighs, I believe, about fivetons. The very smallest of the whale tribe weighs ten; and they go ashigh as forty tons. There are smaller fish than the whale, that are fourtimes as heavy as the elephant. Why doubt, then, that the sea can breeda snake to eclipse the boa-constrictor? Even if the creature had neverbeen seen, I should, by mere reasoning from analogy, expect the sea toproduce a serpent excelling the boa-constrictor, as the lobster excelsa crayfish of our rivers: see how large things grow at sea! the salmonborn in our rivers weighs in six months a quarter of a pound, or less;it goes out to sea, and comes back in one year weighing seven pounds. So far from doubting the large sea-serpents, I believe they exist by themillion. The only thing that puzzles me is, why they should ever show anose above water; they must be very numerous, I think. "

Captain Hamilton laughed, and said, "Well, this IS new. Doctor, incompliment to your opinion, we will go on deck, and inspect the reptileyou think so common. " He stopped at the door, and said, "Doctor, thesaltcellar is by you. Would you mind bringing it on deck? We shall wanta little to secure the animal. "

So they all went on deck right merrily. 

The captain went up a few ratlines in the mizzen rigging, and looked towindward, laughing all the time: but, all of a sudden, there was a greatchange in his manner. "Good heavens, it is alive--LUFF!"

The helmsman obeyed; the news spread like wildfire. Mess kids, grogkids, pipes, were all let fall, and some three hundred sailors clusteredon the rigging like bees, to view the long-talked-of monster. 

It was soon discovered to be moving lazily along, the propelling partbeing under water, and about twenty-five feet visible. It had a smallhead for so large a body, and, as they got nearer, rough scales wereseen, ending in smaller ones further down the body. It had a mane, butnot like a lion's, as some have pretended. If you have ever seen a ponywith a hog-mane, that was more the character of this creature's mane, ifmane it was. 

They got within a hundred yards of it, and all saw it plainly, scarcebelieving their senses. 

When they could get no nearer for the wind, the captain yielded to thatinstinct which urges man always to kill a curiosity, "to encourage therest, " as saith the witty Voltaire. "Get ready a gun--best shot in theship lay and fire it. "

This was soon done. Bang went the gun. The shot struck the water closeto the brute, and may have struck him under water, for aught I know. Any way, it sorely disturbed him; for he reared into the air a columnof serpent's flesh that looked as thick as the maintopmast of aseventy-four, opened a mouth that looked capacious enough to swallowthe largest buoy anchor in the ship, and, with a strange grating noisebetween a bark and a hiss, dived, and was seen no more. 

When he was gone, they all looked at one another like men awaking from adream. 

Staines alone took it quite coolly. It did not surprise him in theleast. He had always thought it incredible that the boa-constrictorshould be larger than any sea-snake. That idea struck him as monstrousand absurd. He noted the sea-serpent in his journal, but with thisdoubt, "Semble--more like a very large eel. "

Next day they crossed the line. Just before noon a young gentlemanburst into Staines's cabin, apologizing for want of ceremony; but ifDr. Staines would like to see the line, it was now in sight from themizzentop. 

"Glad of it, sir, " said Staines; "collect it for me in the ship'sbuckets, if you please. I want to send A LINE to friends at home. "

Young gentleman buried his hands in his pockets, walked out in solemnsilence, and resumed his position on the lee-side of the quarter-deck. 

Nevertheless, this opening, coupled with what he had heard and read, made Staines a little uneasy, and he went to his friend Fitzroy, andsaid, "Now, look here: I am at the service of you experienced andhumorous mariners. I plead guilty at once to the crime of never havingpassed the line; so, make ready your swabs, and lather me; your ship'sscraper, and shave me; and let us get it over. But Lord Tadcaster isnervous, sensitive, prouder than he seems, and I'm not going to have himdriven into a fit for all the Neptunes and Amphitrites in creation. "

Fitzroy heard him out, then burst out laughing. "Why, there is none ofthat game in the Royal Navy, " said he. "Hasn't been this twenty years. "

"I'm so sorry, " said Dr. Staines. "If there's a form of wit I revere, itis practical joking. "

"Doctor, you are a satirical beggar. "

Staines told Tadcaster, and he went forward and chaffed his friend thequartermaster, who was one of the forecastle wits. 

"I say, quartermaster, why doesn't Neptune come on board?"

Dead silence. 

"I wonder what has become of poor old Nep?"

"Gone ashore!" growled the seaman. "Last seen in Rateliff Highway. Got ashop there--lends a shilling in the pound on seamen's advance tickets. "

"Oh! and Amphitrite?"

"Married the sexton at Wapping. "

"And the Nereids?"

"Neruds!" (scratching his head. ) "I harn't kept my eye on them smallcraft. But I BELIEVE they are selling oysters in the port of Leith. "

A light breeze carried them across the equator; but soon after theygot becalmed, and it was dreary work, and the ship rolled gently, butcontinuously, and upset Lord Tadcaster's stomach again, and quenched hismanly spirit. 

At last they were fortunate enough to catch the southeast trade, but itwas so languid at first that the ship barely moved through the water, though they set every stitch, and studding sails alow and aloft, tillreally she was acres of canvas. 

While she was so creeping along, a man in the mizzentop noticed anenormous shark gliding steadily in her wake. This may seem a smallincident, yet it ran through the ship like wildfire, and caused more orless uneasiness in three hundred stout hearts; so near is every seamanto death, and so strong the persuasion in their superstitious minds, that a shark does not follow a ship pertinaciously without a propheticinstinct of calamity. 

Unfortunately, the quartermaster conveyed this idea to Lord Tadcaster, and confirmed it by numerous examples to prove that there was alwaysdeath at hand when a shark followed the ship. 

Thereupon Tadcaster took it into his head that he was under a relapse, and the shark was waiting for his dead body: he got quite low-spirited. 

Staines told Fitzroy. Fitzroy said, "Shark be hanged! I'll have him ondeck in half an hour. " He got leave from the captain: a hook wasbaited with a large piece of pork, and towed astern by a stout line, experienced old hands attending to it by turns. 

The shark came up leisurely, surveyed the bait, and, I apprehend, ascertained the position of the hook. At all events, he turned quietlyon his back, sucked the bait off, and retired to enjoy it. 

Every officer in the ship tried him in turn, but without success; for, if they got ready for him, and, the moment he took the bait, jerked therope hard, in that case he opened his enormous mouth so wide that thebait and hook came out clear. But, sooner or later, he always got thebait, and left his captors the hook. 

This went on for days, and his huge dorsal fin always in the ship'swake. 

Then Tadcaster, who had watched these experiments with hope, lost hisspirit and appetite. 

Staines reasoned with him, but in vain. Somebody was to die; and, although there were three hundred and more in the ship, he must be theone. At last he actually made his will, and threw himself into Staines'sarms, and gave him messages to his mother and Lady Cicely; and ended byfrightening himself into a fit. 

This roused Staines's pity, and also put him on his mettle. What, science be beaten by a shark!

He pondered the matter with all his might; and at last an idea came tohim. 

He asked the captain's permission to try his hand. This was accordedimmediately, and the ship's stores placed at his disposal very politely, but with a sly, comical grin. 

Dr. Staines got from the carpenter some sheets of zinc and spare copper, and some flannel: these he cut into three-inch squares, and soaked theflannel in acidulated water. He then procured a quantity of bell-wire, the greater part of which he insulated by wrapping it round with hotgutta percha. So eager was he, that he did not turn in all night. 

In the morning he prepared what he called an electric fuse--he filleda soda-water bottle with gunpowder, attaching some cork to make itbuoyant, put in the fuse and bung, made it water-tight, connected andinsulated his main wires--enveloped the bottle in pork--tied a line toit, and let the bottle overboard. 

The captain and officers shook their heads mysteriously. The tars peepedand grinned from every rope to see a doctor try and catch a shark witha soda-water bottle and no hook; but somehow the doctor seemed toknow what he was about, so they hovered round, and awaited the result, mystified, but curious, and showing their teeth from ear to ear. 

"The only thing I fear, " said Staines, "is that, the moment he takes thebait, he will cut the wire before I can complete the circuit, and firethe fuse. "

Nevertheless, there was another objection to the success of theexperiment. The shark had disappeared. 

"Well, " said the captain, "at all events, you have frightened him away. "

"No, " said little Tadcaster, white as a ghost; "he is only under water, I know; waiting--waiting. "

"There he is, " cried one in the ratlines. 

There was a rush to the taffrail--great excitement. 

"Keep clear of me, " said Staines quietly but firmly. "It can only bedone at the moment before he cuts the wire. "

The old shark swam slowly round the bait. 

He saw it was something new. 

He swam round and round it. 

"He won't take it, " said one. 

"He suspects something. "

"Oh, yes, he will take the meat somehow, and leave the pepper. Sly oldfox!"

"He has eaten many a poor Jack, that one. "

The shark turned slowly on his back, and, instead of grabbing at thebait, seemed to draw it by gentle suction into that capacious throat, ready to blow it out in a moment if it was not all right. 

The moment the bait was drawn out of sight, Staines completed thecircuit; the bottle exploded with a fury that surprised him andeverybody who saw it; a ton of water flew into the air, and came down inspray, and a gory carcass floated, belly uppermost, visibly staining theblue water. 

There was a roar of amazement and applause. 

The carcass was towed alongside, at Tadcaster's urgent request, and thenthe power of the explosion was seen. Confined, first by the bottle, thenby the meat, then by the fish, and lastly by the water, it had explodedwith tenfold power, had blown the brute's head into a million atoms, andhad even torn a great furrow in its carcass, exposing three feet of thebackbone. 

Taddy gloated on his enemy, and began to pick up again from that hour. 

The wind improved, and, as usual in that latitude, scarcely varieda point. They had a pleasant time, --private theatricals and otheramusements till they got to latitude 26 deg. S. And longitude 27 deg. W. Then the trade wind deserted them. Light and variable winds succeeded. 

The master complained of the chronometers, and the captain thought ithis duty to verify or correct them; and so shaped his course for theisland of Tristan d'Acunha, then lying a little way out of his course. Iought, perhaps, to explain to the general reader that the exact positionof this island being long ago established and recorded, it was aninfallible guide to go by in verifying a ship's chronometers. 

Next day the glass fell all day, and the captain said he shoulddouble-reef topsails at nightfall, for something was brewing. 

The weather, however, was fine, and the ship was sailing very fast, when, about half an hour before sunset, the mast-head man hailed thatthere was a bulk of timber in sight, broad on the weather-bow. 

The signalman was sent up, and said it looked like a raft. 

The captain, who was on deck, levelled his glass at it, and made it outa raft, with a sort of rail to it, and the stump of a mast. 

He ordered the officer of the watch to keep the ship as close to thewind as possible. He should like to examine it if he could. 

The master represented, respectfully, that it would be unadvisable tobeat to windward for that. "I have no faith in our chronometers, sir, and it is important to make the island before dark; fogs rise here sosuddenly. "

"Very well, Mr. Bolt; then I suppose we must let the raft go. "

"MAN ON THE RAFT TO WINDWARD!" hailed the signalman. 

This electrified the ship. The captain ran up the mizzen rigging, andscanned the raft, now nearly abeam. 

"It IS a man!" he cried, and was about to alter the ship's course when, at that moment, the signalman hailed again, --

"IT IS A CORPSE. "

"How d'ye know?"

"By the gulls. "

Then succeeded an exciting dialogue between the captain and the master, who, being in his department, was very firm; and went so far as to sayhe would not answer for the safety of the ship, if they did not sightthe land before dark. 

The captain said, "Very well, " and took a turn or two. But at last hesaid, "No. Her Majesty's ship must not pass a raft with a man on it, dead or alive. "

He then began to give the necessary orders; but before they were all outof his mouth, a fatal interruption occurred. 

Tadcaster ran into Dr. Staines's cabin, crying, "A raft with a corpseclose by!"

Staines sprang to the quarter port to see, and craning eagerly out, thelower port chain, which had not been well secured, slipped, the portgave way, and as his whole weight rested on it, canted him headlong intothe sea. 

A smart seaman in the forechains saw the accident, and instantly roaredout, "MAN OVERBOARD!" a cry that sends a thrill through a ship's veryribs. 

Another smart fellow cut the life-buoy adrift so quickly that it struckthe water within ten yards of Staines. 

The officer of the watch, without the interval of half a moment, gavethe right orders, in the voice of a stentor;

"Let go life-buoy. 

"Life-boat's crew away. 

"Hands shorten sail. 

"Mainsel up. 

"Main topsel to mast. "

These orders were executed with admirable swiftness. Meantime there wasa mighty rush of feet throughout the frigate, every hatchway was crammedwith men eager to force their way on deck. 

In five seconds the middy of the watch and half her crew were in the leecutter, fitted with Clifford's apparatus. 

"Lower away!" cried the excited officer; "the others will come down bythe pendants. "

The man stationed, sitting on the bottom boards, eased away roundly, when suddenly there was a hitch--the boat would go no farther. 

"Lower away there in the cutter! Why don't you lower?" screamed thecaptain, who had come over to leeward expecting to see the boat in thewater. 

"The rope has swollen, sir, and the pendants won't unreeve, " cried themiddy in agony. 

"Volunteers for the weather-boat!" shouted the first lieutenant; butthe order was unnecessary, for more than the proper number were in heralready. 

"Plug in--lower away. "

But mishaps never come singly. Scarcely had this boat gone a foot fromthe davit, than the volunteer who was acting as coxswain, in reachingout for something, inadvertently let go the line, which, in Kynaston'sapparatus, keeps the tackles hooked; consequently, down went the boatand crew twenty feet, with a terrific crash; the men were struggling fortheir lives, and the boat was stove. 

But, meantime, more men having been sent into the lee cutter, theirweight caused the pendants to render, and the boat got afloat, and wassoon employed picking up the struggling crew. 

Seeing this, Lieutenant Fitzroy collected some hands, and lowered thelife-boat gig, which was fitted with common tackles, got down into herhimself by the falls, and pulling round to windward, shouted to thesignalman for directions. 

The signalman was at his post, and had fixed his eye on the manoverboard, as his duty was; but his mess-mate was in the stove boat, andhe had cast one anxious look down to see if he was saved, and, sad torelate, in that one moment he had lost sight of Staines; the suddendarkness--there was no twilight--confused him more, and the ship hadincreased her drift. 

Fitzroy, however, made a rapid calculation, and pulled to windward withall his might. He was followed in about a minute by the other sound boatpowerfully manned, and both boats melted away into the night. 

There was a long and anxious suspense, during which it became pitchdark, and the ship burned blue lights to mark her position more plainlyto the crews that were groping the sea for that beloved passenger. 

Captain Hamilton had no doubt that the fate of Staines was decided, oneway or other, long before this; but he kept quiet until he saw the plainsigns of a squall at hand. Then, as he was responsible for the safety ofboats and ship, he sent up rockets to recall them. 

The cutter came alongside first. Lights were poured on her, andquavering voices asked, "Have you got him?"

The answer was dead silence, and sorrowful, drooping heads. 

Sadly and reluctantly was the order given to hoist the boat in. 

Then the gig came alongside. Fitzroy seated in her, with his handsbefore his face; the men gloomy and sad. 

"GONE! GONE!"

Soon the ship was battling a heavy squall. 

At midnight all quiet again, and hove to. Then, at the request of many, the bell was tolled, and the ship's company mustered bareheaded, and many a stout seaman in tears, as the last service was read forChristopher Staines. 

CHAPTER XIV. 

Rosa fell ill with grief at the hotel, and could not move for some days;but the moment she was strong enough, she insisted on leaving Plymouth:like all wounded things, she must drag herself home. 

But what a home! How empty it struck, and she heart-sick and desolate. Now all the familiar places wore a new aspect: the little yard, where hehad so walked and waited, became a temple to her, and she came outand sat in it, and now first felt to the full how much he had sufferedthere--with what fortitude. She crept about the house, and kissedthe chair he had sat in, and every much-used place and thing of thedeparted. 

Her shallow nature deepened and deepened under this bereavement, ofwhich, she said to herself, with a shudder, she was the cause. And thisis the course of nature; there is nothing like suffering to enlightenthe giddy brain, widen the narrow mind, improve the trivial heart. 

As her regrets were tender and deep, so her vows of repentancewere sincere. Oh, what a wife she would make when he came back! howthoughtful! how prudent! how loyal! and never have a secret. She who hadonce said, "What is the use of your writing? nobody will publish it, "now collected and perused every written scrap. With simple affectionshe even locked up his very waste-paper basket, full of fragments he hadtorn, or useless papers he had thrown there, before he went to Plymouth. 

In the drawer of his writing-table she found his diary. It was athick quarto: it began with their marriage, and ended with his leavinghome--for then he took another volume. This diary became her Bible; shestudied it daily, till her tears hid his lines. The entries were verymiscellaneous, very exact; it was a map of their married life. Butwhat she studied most was his observations on her own character, soscientific, yet so kindly; and his scholar-like and wise reflections. The book was an unconscious picture of a great mind she had hitherto butglanced at: now she saw it all plain before her; saw it, understood it, adored it, mourned it. Such women are shallow, not for want of ahead upon their shoulders, but of ATTENTION. They do not reallystudy anything: they have been taught at their schools the bad art ofskimming; but let their hearts compel their brains to think and think, the result is considerable. The deepest philosopher never fathomed acharacter more thoroughly than this poor child fathomed her philosopher, when she had read his journal ten or eleven times, and bedewed it with athousand tears. 

One passage almost cut her more intelligent heart in twain:--

"This dark day I have done a thing incredible. I have spoken with brutalharshness to the innocent creature I have sworn to protect. She had runin debt, through inexperience, and that unhappy timidity which makeswomen conceal an error till it ramifies, by concealment, into a fault;and I must storm and rave at her, till she actually fainted away. Brute!Ruffian! Monster! And she, how did she punish me, poor lamb? By softand tender words--like a lady, as she is. Oh, my sweet Rosa, I wish youcould know how you are avenged. Talk of the scourge--the cat! I would bethankful for two dozen lashes. Ah! there is no need, I think, to punisha man who has been cruel to a woman. Let him alone. He will punishhimself more than you can, if he is really a man. "

From the date of that entry, this self-reproach and self-torture keptcropping up every now and then in the diary; and it appeared to havebeen not entirely without its influence in sending Staines to sea, though the main reason he gave was that his Rosa might have the comfortsand luxuries she had enjoyed before she married him. 

One day, while she was crying over this diary, Uncle Philip called; butnot to comfort her, I promise you. He burst on her, irate, to take herto task. He had returned, learned Christopher's departure, and settledthe reason in his own mind: that uxorious fool was gone to sea by anatural reaction; his eyes were open to his wife at last, and he wassick of her folly; so he had fled to distant climes, as who would not, that could?

"SO, ma'am, " said he, "my nephew is gone to sea, I find--all in a hurry. Pray may I ask what he has done that for?"

It was a very simple question, yet it did not elicit a very plainanswer. She only stared at this abrupt inquisitor, and then cried, piteously, "Oh, Uncle Philip!" and burst out sobbing. 

"Why, what is the matter?"

"You WILL hate me now. He is gone to make money for ME; and I wouldrather have lived on a crust. Uncle--don't hate me. I'm a poor, bereaved, heart-broken creature, that repents. "

"Repents! heigho! why, what have you been up to now, ma'am? No greatharm, I'll be bound. Flirting a little with some FOOL--eh?"

"Flirting! Me! a married woman. "

"Oh, to be sure; I forgot. Why, surely he has not deserted you. "

"My Christopher desert me! He loves me too well; far more than Ideserve; but not more than I will. Uncle Philip, I am too confused andwretched to tell you all that has happened; but I know you love him, though you had a tiff: uncle, he called on you, to shake hands and askyour forgiveness, poor fellow! He was so sorry you were away. Pleaseread his dear diary: it will tell you all, better than his poor foolishwife can. I know it by heart. I'll show you where you and he quarrelledabout me. There, see. " And she showed him the passage with her finger. "He never told me it was that, or I would have come and begged yourpardon on my knees. But see how sorry he was. There, see. And now I'llshow you another place, where my Christopher speaks of your many, manyacts of kindness. There, see. And now please let me show you how helonged for reconciliation. There, see. And it is the same throughthe book. And now I'll show you how grieved he was to go without yourblessing. I told him I was sure you would give him that, and him goingaway. Ah, me! will he ever return? Uncle dear, don't hate me. What shallI do, now he is gone, if you disown me? Why, you are the only Stainesleft me to love. "

"Disown you, ma'am! that I'll never do. You are a good-heartedyoung woman, I find. There, run and dry your eyes; and let me readChristopher's diary all through. Then I shall see how the land lies. "

Rosa complied with his proposal; and left him alone while she bathed hereyes, and tried to compose herself, for she was all trembling at thissudden irruption. 

When she returned to the drawing-room, he was walking about, lookinggrave and thoughtful. 

"It is the old story, " said he, rather gently: "a MISUNDERSTANDING. Howwise our ancestors were that first used that word to mean a quarrel!for, look into twenty quarrels, and you shall detect a score ofmis-under-standings. Yet our American cousins must go and substitute theun-ideaed word 'difficulty'; that is wonderful. I had no quarrel withhim: delighted to see either of you. But I had called twice on him; so Ithought he ought to get over his temper, and call on a tried friendlike me. A misunderstanding! Now, my dear, let us have no more of thesemisunderstandings. You will always be welcome at my house, and I shalloften come here and look after you and your interests. What do you meanto do, I wonder?"

"Sir, I am to go home to my father, if he will be troubled with me. Ihave written to him. "

"And what is to become of the Bijou?"

"My Christie thought I should like to part with it, and thefurniture--but his own writing-desk and his chair, no, I never will, and his little clock. Oh! oh! oh!--But I remember what you said aboutagents, and I don't know what to do; for I shall be away. "

"Then, leave it to me. I'll come and live here with one servant; andI'll soon sell it for you. "

"You, Uncle Philip!"

"Well, why not?" said he roughly. 

"That will be a great trouble and discomfort to you, I'm afraid. "

"If I find it so, I'll soon drop it. I'm not the fool to put myself outfor anybody. When you are ready to go out, send me word, and I'll comein. "

Soon after this he bustled off. He gave her a sort of hurried kiss atparting, as if he was ashamed of it, and wanted it over as quickly aspossible. 

Next day her father came, condoled with her politely, assured her therewas nothing to cry about; husbands were a sort of functionaries thatgenerally went to sea at some part of their career, and no harm evercame of it. On the contrary, "Absence makes the heart grow fonder, " saidthis judicious parent. 

This sentiment happened to be just a little too true, and set thedaughter crying bitterly. But she fought against it. "Oh no!" said she, "I MUSTN'T. I will not be always crying in Kent Villa. "

"Lord forbid!"

"I shall get over it in time--a little. "

"Why, of course you will. But as to your coming to Kent Villa, Iam afraid you would not be very comfortable there. You know I amsuperannuated. Only got my pension now. "

"I know that, papa: and--why, that is one of the reasons. I have a goodincome now; and I thought if we put our means together"--

"Oh, that is a very different thing. You will want a carriage, Isuppose. I have put mine down. "

"No carriage; no horse; no footman; no luxury of any kind till myChristie comes back. I abhor dress; I abhor expense; I loathe everythingI once liked too well; I detest every folly that has parted us; and Ihate myself worst of all. Oh! oh! oh! Forgive me for crying so. "

"Well, I dare say there are associations about this place that upsetyou. I shall go and make ready for you, dear; and then you can come assoon as you like. "

He bestowed a paternal kiss on her brow, and glided doucely away beforeshe could possibly cry again. 

The very next week Rosa was at Kent Villa, with the relics of herhusband about her; his chair, his writing-table, his clock, hiswaste-paper basket, a very deep and large one. She had them all in herbedroom at Kent Villa. 

Here the days glided quietly but heavily. 

She derived some comfort from Uncle Philip. His rough, friendly way wasa tonic, and braced her. He called several times about the Bijou. Toldher he had put up enormous boards all over the house, and puffed itfinely. "I have had a hundred agents at me, " said he; "and the nextthing, I hope, will be one customer; that is about the proportion. "At last he wrote her he had hooked a victim, and sold the lease andfurniture for nine hundred guineas. Staines had assigned the lease toRosa, so she had full powers; and Philip invested the money, and twohundred more she gave him, in a little mortgage at six per cent. 

Now came the letter from Madeira. It gave her new life. Christopherwas well, contented, hopeful. His example should animate her. She wouldbravely bear the present, and share his hopes of the future: withthese brighter views Nature co-operated. The instincts of approachingmaternity brightened the future. She fell into gentle reveries, and sawher husband return, and saw herself place their infant in his arms withall a wife's, a mother's pride. 

In due course came another long letter from the equator, with afull journal, and more words of hope. Home in less than a year, withreputation increased by this last cure; home, to part no more. 

Ah! what a changed wife he should find! how frugal, how candid, how fullof appreciation, admiration, and love, of the noblest, dearest husbandthat ever breathed!

Lady Cicely Treherne waited some weeks, to let kinder sentiments return. She then called in Dear Street, but found Mrs. Staines was gone toGravesend. She wrote to her. 

In a few days she received a reply, studiously polite and cold. 

This persistent injustice mortified her at last. She said to herself, "Does she think his departure was no loss to ME? It was to herinterests, as well as his, I sacrificed my own selfish wishes. I willwrite to her no more. "

This resolution she steadily maintained. It was shaken for a moment, when she heard, by a side wind, that Mrs. Staines was fast approachingthe great pain and peril of women. Then she wavered. But no. She prayedfor her by name in the Liturgy, but she troubled her no more. 

This state of things lasted some six weeks, when she received a letterfrom her cousin Tadcaster, close on the heels of his last, to which shehad replied as I have indicated. She knew his handwriting, and opened itwith a smile. 

That smile soon died off her horror-stricken face. The letter ranthus:--

TRISTAN D'ACUNHA, Jan. 5. 

DEAR CICELY, --A terrible thing has just happened. We signalled a raft, with a body on it, and poor Dr. Staines leaned out of the port-hole, and fell overboard. Three boats were let down after him; but it all wentwrong, somehow, or it was too late. They could never find him, he wasdrowned; and the funeral service was read for the poor fellow. 

We are all sadly cut up. Everybody loved him. It was dreadful nextday at dinner, when his chair was empty. The very sailors cried at notfinding him. 

First of all, I thought I ought to write to his wife. I know where shelives; it is called Kent Villa, Gravesend. But I was afraid; it mightkill her: and you are so good and sensible, I thought I had better writeto you, and perhaps you could break it to her by degrees, before it getsin all the papers. 

I send this from the island, by a small vessel, and paid him ten poundsto take it. 

Your affectionate cousin, TADCASTER. 

Words are powerless to describe a blow like this: the amazement, thestupor, the reluctance to believe--the rising, swelling, surging horror. She sat like a woman of stone, crumpling the letter. "Dead!--dead?"

For a long time this was all her mind could realize--that ChristopherStaines was dead. He who had been so full of life and thought andgenius, and worthier to live than all the world, was dead; and a millionnobodies were still alive, and he was dead. 

She lay back on the sofa, and all the power left her limbs. She couldnot move a hand. 

But suddenly she started up; for a noble instinct told her this blowmust not fall on the wife as it had on her, and in her time of peril. 

She had her bonnet on in a moment, and for the first time in her life, darted out of the house without her maid. She flew along the streets, scarcely feeling the ground. She got to Dear Street, and obtained PhilipStaines's address. She flew to it, and there learned he was down atKent Villa. Instantly she telegraphed to her maid to come down to herat Gravesend, with things for a short visit, and wait for her at thestation; and she went down by train to Gravesend. 

Hitherto she had walked on air, driven by one overpowering impulse. Now, as she sat in the train, she thought a little of herself. What wasbefore her? To break to Mrs. Staines that her husband was dead. To tellher all her misgivings were more than justified. To encounter her coldcivility, and let her know, inch by inch, it must be exchanged forcurses and tearing of hair; her husband was dead. To tell her this, andin the telling of it, perhaps reveal that it was HER great bereavement, as well as the wife's, for she had a deeper affection for him than sheought. 

Well, she trembled like an aspen leaf, trembled like one in an ague, even as she sat. But she persevered. 

A noble woman has her courage; not exactly the same as that which leadsforlorn hopes against bastions bristling with rifles and tongued withflames and thunderbolts; yet not inferior to it. 

Tadcaster, small and dull, but noble by birth and instinct, had seen theright thing for her to do; and she, of the same breed, and nobler far, had seen it too; and the great soul steadily drew the recoiling heartand quivering body to this fiery trial, this act of humanity--to dowhich was terrible and hard, to shirk it, cowardly and cruel. 

She reached Gravesend, and drove in a fly to Kent Villa. 

The door was opened by a maid. 

"Is Mrs. Staines at home?"

"Yes, ma'am, she is at HOME: but--"

"Can I see her?"

"Why, no, ma'am, not at present. "

"But I must see her. I am an old friend. Please take her my card. LadyCicely Treherne. "

The maid hesitated, and looked confused. "Perhaps you don't know, ma'am. Mrs. Staines, she is--the doctor have been in the house all day. "

"Ah, the doctor! I believe Dr. Philip Staines is here. "

"Why, that IS the doctor, ma'am. Yes, he is here. "

"Then, pray let me see him--or no; I had better see Mr. Lusignan. "

"Master have gone out for the day, ma'am; but if you'll step in thedrawing-room, I'll tell the doctor. "

Lady Cicely waited in the drawing-room some time, heart-sick andtrembling. 

At last Dr. Philip came in, with her card in his hand, looking evidentlya little cross at the interruption. "Now, madam, please tell me, asbriefly as you can, what I can do for you. "

"Are you Dr. Philip Staines?"

"I am, madam, at your service--for five minutes. Can't quit my patientlong, just now. "

"Oh, sir, thank God I have found you. Be prepared for ill news--sadnews--a terrible calamity--I can't speak. Read that, sir. " And shehanded him Tadcaster's note. 

He took it, and read it. 

He buried his face in his hands. "Christopher! my poor, poor boy!"he groaned. But suddenly a terrible anxiety seized him. "Who knows ofthis?" he asked. 

"Only myself, sir. I came here to break it to her. "

"You are a good, kind lady, for being so thoughtful. Madam, if this getsto my niece's ears, it will kill her, as sure as we stand here. "

"Then let us keep it from her. Command me, sir. I will do anything. Iwill live here--take the letters in--the journals--anything. "

"No, no; you have done your part, and God bless you for it. You must notstay here. Your ladyship's very presence, and your agitation, would setthe servants talking, and some idiot-fiend among them babbling--there isnothing so terrible as a fool. "

"May I remain at the inn, sir; just one night?"

"Oh yes, I wish you would; and I will run over, if all is well withher--well with her? poor unfortunate girl!"

Lady Cicely saw he wished her gone, and she went directly. 

At nine o'clock that same evening, as she lay on a sofa in the best roomof the inn, attended by her maid, Dr. Philip Staines came to her. Shedismissed her maid. 

Dr. Philip was too old, in other words, had lost too many friends, tobe really broken down by bereavement; but he was strangely subdued. Theloud tones were out of him, and the loud laugh, and even the keen sneer. Yet he was the same man; but with a gentler surface; and this was notwithout its pathos. 

"Well, madam, " said he gravely and quietly. "It is as it always hasbeen. 'As is the race of leaves, so that of man. ' When one falls, another comes. Here's a little Christopher come, in place of him that isgone: a brave, beautiful boy, ma'am; the finest but one I ever broughtinto the world. He is come to take his father's place in our hearts--Isee you valued his poor father, ma'am--but he comes too late for me. Atyour age, ma'am, friendships come naturally; they spring like loves inthe soft heart of youth: at seventy, the gate is not so open; the soilis more sterile. I shall never care for another Christopher; never seeanother grow to man's estate. "

"The mother, sir, " sobbed Lady Cicely; "the poor mother?"

"Like them all--poor creature: in heaven, madam; in heaven. New life!new existence! a new character. All the pride, glory, rapture, andamazement of maternity--thanks to her ignorance, which we must prolong, or I would not give one straw for her life, or her son's. I shall neverleave the house till she does know it, and come when it may, I dread thehour. She is not framed by nature to bear so deadly a shock. "

"Her father, sir. Would he not be the best person to break it to her? Hewas out to-day. "

"Her father, ma'am? I shall get no help from him. He is one of thosesoft, gentle creatures, that come into the world with what your cantingfools call a mission; and his mission is to take care of number one. Not dishonestly, mind you, nor violently, nor rudely, but doucely andcalmly. The care a brute like me takes of his vitals, that care Lusignantakes of his outer cuticle. His number one is a sensitive plant. Noscenes, no noise; nothing painful--by-the-by, the little creature thatwrites in the papers, and calls calamities PAINFUL, is of Lusignan'sbreed. Out to-day! of course he was out, ma'am: he knew from me hisdaughter would be in peril all day, so he visited a friend. He knew hisown tenderness, and evaded paternal sensibilities: a self-defender. Icount on no help from that charming man. "

"A man! I call such creachaas weptiles!" said Lady Cicely, her ghastlycheek coloring for a moment. 

"Then you give them a false importance. "

In the course of this interview, Lady Cicely accused herself sadly ofhaving interfered between man and wife, and with the best intentionsbrought about this cruel calamity. "Judge, then, sir, " said she, "how grateful I am to you for undertaking this cruel task. I was herschoolfellow, sir, and I love her dearly; but she has turned against me, and now, oh, with what horror she will regard me!"

"Madam, " said the doctor, "there is nothing more mean and unjust thanto judge others by events that none could foresee. Your conscienceis clear. You did your best for my poor nephew: but Fate willed itotherwise. As for my niece, she has many virtues, but justice is oneyou must not look for in that quarter. Justice requires brains. It'sa virtue the heart does not deal in. You must be content with your owngood conscience, and an old man's esteem. You did all for the best; andthis very day you have done a good, kind action. God bless you for it!"

Then he left her; and next day she went sadly home, and for many a longday the hollow world saw nothing of Cicely Treherne. 

When Mr. Lusignan came home that night, Dr. Philip told him themiserable story, and his fears. He received it, not as Philip hadexpected. The bachelor had counted without his dormant paternity. Hewas terror-stricken--abject--fell into a chair, and wrung his hands, and wept piteously. To keep it from his daughter till she should bestronger, seemed to him chimerical, impossible. However, Philip insistedit must be done; and he must make some excuse for keeping out of herway, or his manner would rouse her suspicions. He consented readily tothat, and indeed left all to Dr. Philip. 

Dr. Philip trusted nobody; not even his own confidential servant. Heallowed no journal to come into the house without passing through hishands, and he read them all before he would let any other soul in thehouse see them. He asked Rosa to let him be her secretary and open herletters, giving as a pretext that it would be as well she should have nosmall worries or trouble just now. 

"Why, " said she, "I was never so well able to bear them. It must be agreat thing to put me out now. I am so happy, and live in the future. Well, dear uncle, you can if you like--what does it matter?--only theremust be one exception: my own Christie's letters, you know. "

"Of course, " said he, wincing inwardly. 

The very next day came a letter of condolence from Miss Lucas. Dr. Philip intercepted it, and locked it up, to be shown her at a morefitting time. 

But how could he hope to keep so public a thing as this from enteringthe house in one of a hundred newspapers?

He went into Gravesend, and searched all the newspapers, to see what hehad to contend with. To his horror, he found it in several dailies andweeklies, and in two illustrated papers. He sat aghast at the difficultyand the danger. 

The best thing he could think of was to buy them all, and cut out theaccount. He did so, and brought all the papers, thus mutilated, intothe house, and sent them into the kitchen. He said to his old servant, "These may amuse Mr. Lusignan's people, and I have extracted all thatinterests me. "

By these means he hoped that none of the servants would go and buy moreof these same papers elsewhere. 

Notwithstanding these precautions, he took the nurse apart, and said, "Now, you are an experienced woman, and to be trusted about an excitablepatient. Mind, I object to any female servant entering Mrs. Staines'sroom with gossip. Keep them outside the door for the present, please. Oh, and nurse, if anything should happen, likely to grieve or to worryher, it must be kept from her entirely: can I trust you?"

"You may, sir. "

"I shall add ten guineas to your fee, if she gets through the monthwithout a shock or disturbance of any kind. "

She stared at him, inquiringly. Then she said, --

"You may rely on me, doctor. "

"I feel I may. Still, she alarms me. She looks quiet enough, but she isvery excitable. "

Not all these precautions gave Dr. Philip any real sense of security;still less did they to Mr. Lusignan. He was not a tender father, insmall things, but the idea of actual danger to his only child wasterrible to him and he now passed his life in a continual tremble. 

This is the less to be wondered at, when I tell you that even the stoutPhilip began to lose his nerve, his appetite, his sleep, under thishourly terror and this hourly torture. 

Well did the great imagination of antiquity feign a torment, too greatfor the mind long to endure, in the sword of Damocles suspended bya single hair over his head. Here the sword hung over an innocentcreature, who smiled beneath it, fearless; but these two old men mustsit and watch the sword, and ask themselves how long before that subtlesalvation shall snap. 

"Ill news travels fast, " says the proverb. "The birds of the air shallcarry the matter, " says Holy Writ; and it is so. No bolts nor bars, nopromises nor precautions, can long shut out a great calamity from theears it is to blast, the heart it is to wither. The very air seems fullof it, until it falls. 

Rosa's child was more than a fortnight old; and she was looking morebeautiful than ever, as is often the case with a very young mother, andDr. Philip complimented her on her looks. "Now, " said he, "you reap theadvantage of being good, and obedient, and keeping quiet. In another tendays or so, I may take you to the seaside for a week. I have the honorto inform you that from about the fourth to the tenth of March there isalways a week of fine weather, which takes everybody by surprise, exceptme. It does not astonish me, because I observe it is invariable. Now, what would you say if I gave you a week at Herne Bay, to set you upaltogether?"

"As you please, dear uncle, " said Mrs. Staines, with a sweet smile. "Ishall be very happy to go, or to stay. I shall be happy everywhere, withmy darling boy, and the thought of my husband. Why, I count the daystill he shall come back to me. No, to us; to us, my pet. How dare anaughty mammy say to 'me, ' as if 'me' was half the 'portance of oo, aprecious pets!"

Dr. Philip was surprised into a sigh. 

"What is the matter, dear?" said Rosa, very quickly. 

"The matter?"

"Yes, dear, the matter. You sighed; you, the laughing philosopher. "

"Did I?" said he, to gain time. "Perhaps I remembered the uncertainty ofhuman life, and of all mortal hopes. The old will have their thoughts, my dear. They have seen so much trouble. "

"But, uncle dear, he is a very healthy child. "

"Very. "

"And you told me yourself carelessness was the cause so many childrendie. "

"That is true. "

She gave him a curious and rather searching look; then, leaning overher boy, said, "Mammy's not afraid. Beautiful Pet was not born to diedirectly. He will never leave his mam-ma. No, uncle, he never can. Formy life is bound in his and his dear father's. It is a triple cord: onego, go all. "

She said this with a quiet resolution that chilled Uncle Philip. 

At this moment the nurse, who had been bending so pertinaciously oversome work that her eyes were invisible, looked quickly up, cast afurtive glance at Mrs. Staines, and finding she was employed for themoment, made an agitated signal to Dr. Philip. All she did was toclench her two hands and lift them half way to her face, and then cast afrightened look towards the door; but Philip's senses were so sharpenedby constant alarm and watching, that he saw at once something seriouswas the matter. But as he had asked himself what he should do in caseof some sudden alarm, he merely gave a nod of intelligence to the nurse, scarcely perceptible, then rose quietly from his seat, and went to thewindow. "Snow coming, I think, " said he. "For all that we shall have theMarch summer in ten days. You mark my words. " He then went leisurelyout of the room; at the door he turned, and, with all the cunning he wasmaster of, said, "Oh, by the by, come to my room, nurse, when you are atleisure. "

"Yes, doctor, " said the nurse, but never moved. She was too bent onhiding the agitation she really felt. 

"Had you not better go to him, nurse?"

"Perhaps I had, madam. "

She rose with feigned indifference, and left the room. She walkedleisurely down the passage, then, casting a hasty glance behind her, for fear Mrs. Staines should be watching her, hurried into the doctor'sroom. They met at once in the middle of the room, and Mrs. Briscoe burstout, "Sir, it is known all over the house!"

"Heaven forbid! What is known?"

"What you would give the world to keep from her. Why, sir, the momentyou cautioned me, of course I saw there was trouble. But little Ithought--sir, not a servant in the kitchen or the stable but knows thather husband--poor thing! poor thing!--Ah! there goes the housemaid--tohave a look at her. "

"Stop her!"

Mrs. Briscoe had not waited for this; she rushed after the woman, andtold her Mrs. Staines was sleeping, and the room must not be entered onany account. 

"Oh, very well, " said the maid, rather sullenly. 

Mrs. Briscoe saw her return to the kitchen, and came back to Dr. Staines; he was pacing the room in torments of anxiety. 

"Doctor, " said she, "it is the old story: 'Servants' friends, themaster's enemies. ' An old servant came here to gossip with her friendthe cook (she never could abide her while they were together, by allaccounts), and told her the whole story of his being drowned at sea. "

Dr. Philip groaned, "Cursed chatterbox!" said he. "What is to be done?Must we break it to her now? Oh, if I could only buy a few days more!The heart to be crushed while the body is weak! It is too cruel. Adviseme, Mrs. Briscoe. You are an experienced woman, and I think you are akind-hearted woman. "

"Well, sir, " said Mrs. Briscoe, "I had the name of it, when I wasyounger--before Briscoe failed, and I took to nursing; which it hardens, sir, by use, and along of the patients themselves; for sick folk arelumps of selfishness; we see more of them than you do, sir. But this IWILL say, 'tisn't selfishness that lies now in that room, waiting forthe blow that will bring her to death's door, I'm sore afraid; but asweet, gentle, thoughtful creature, as ever supped sorrow; for I don'tknow how 'tis, doctor, nor why 'tis, but an angel like that has alwaysto sup sorrow. "

"But you do not advise me, " said the doctor, in agitation, "andsomething must be done. "

"Advise you, sir; it is not for me to do that. I am sure I'm at my wits'ends, poor thing! Well, sir, I don't see what you can do, but try andbreak it to her. Better so, than let it come to her like a clap ofthunder. But I think, sir, I'd have a wet-nurse ready, before I saidmuch: for she is very quick--and ten to one but the first word of such athing turns her blood to gall. Sir, I once knew a poor woman--she wasa carpenter's wife--a-nursing her child in the afternoon--and in runs afoolish woman, and tells her he was killed dead, off a scaffold. 'Twasthe man's sister told her. Well, sir, she was knocked stupid like, andshe sat staring, and nursing of her child, before she could take it inrightly. The child was dead before supper-time, and the woman was notlong after. The whole family was swept away, sir, in a few hours, andI mind the table was not cleared he had dined on, when they came to laythem out. Well-a-day, nurses see sorrow!"

"We all see sorrow that live long, Mrs. Briscoe. I am heart-brokenmyself; I am desperate. You are a good soul, and I'll tell you. Whenmy nephew married this poor girl, I was very angry with him; and I soonfound she was not fit to be a struggling man's wife; and then I was veryangry with her. She had spoiled a first-rate physician, I thought. But, since I knew her better, it is all changed. She is so lovable. How Ishall ever tell her this terrible thing, God knows. All I know is, thatI will not throw a chance away. Her body SHALL be stronger, before Ibreak her heart. Cursed idiots, that could not save a single man, withtheir boats, in a calm sea! Lord forgive me for blaming people, when Iwas not there to see. I say I will give her every chance. She shall notknow it till she is stronger: no, not if I live at her door, and sleepthere, and all. Good God! inspire me with something. There is alwayssomething to be done, if one could but see it. "

Mrs. Briscoe sighed and said, "Sir, I think anything is better than forher to hear it from a servant--and they are sure to blurt it out. Youngwomen are such fools. "

"No, no; I see what it is, " said Dr. Philip. "I have gone all wrong fromthe first. I have been acting like a woman, when I should have actedlike a man. Why, I only trusted YOU by halves. There was a fool for you. Never trust people by halves. "

"That is true, sir. "

"Well, then, now I shall go at it like a man. I have a vile opinion ofservants; but no matter. I'll try them: they are human, I suppose. I'llhit them between the eyes like a man. Go to the kitchen, Mrs. Briscoe, and tell them I wish to speak to all the servants, indoors or out. "

"Yes, sir. "

She stopped at the door, and said, "I had better get back to her, assoon as I have told them. "

"Certainly. "

"And what shall I tell her, sir? Her first word will be to ask me whatyou wanted me for. I saw that in her eye. She was curious: that is whyshe sent me after you so quick. "

Dr. Philip groaned. He felt he was walking among pitfalls. He rapidlyflavored some distilled water with orange-flower, then tinted it abeautiful pink, and bottled it. "There, " said he; "I was mixing a newmedicine. Tablespoon, four times a day: had to filter it. Any lie youlike. "

Mrs. Briscoe went to the kitchen, and gave her message: then went toMrs. Staines with the mixture. 

Dr. Philip went down to the kitchen, and spoke to the servants verysolemnly. He said, "My good friends, I am come to ask your help in amatter of life and death. There is a poor young woman up-stairs; sheis a widow, and does not know it; and must not know it yet. If the blowfell now, I think it would kill her: indeed, if she hears it all of asudden, at any time, that might destroy her. We are in so sore a straitthat a feather may turn the scale. So we must try all we can to gain alittle time, and then trust to God's mercy after all. Well, now, whatdo you say? Will you help me keep it from her, till the tenth of March, say? and then I will break it to her by degrees. Forget she is yourmistress. Master and servant, that is all very well at a proper time;but this is the time to remember nothing but that we are all one fleshand blood. We lie down together in the churchyard, and we hope to risetogether where there will be no master and servant. Think of the poorunfortunate creature as your own flesh and blood, and tell me, will youhelp me try and save her, under this terrible blow?"

"Ay, doctor, that we will, " said the footman. "Only you give us ourorders, and you will see. "

"I have no right to give you orders; but I entreat you not to show herby word or look, that calamity is upon her. Alas! it is only a reprieveyou can give her and to me. The bitter hour MUST come when I must tellher she is a widow, and her boy an orphan. When that day comes, I willask you all to pray for me that I may find words. But now I ask you togive me that ten days' reprieve. Let the poor creature recover a littlestrength, before the thunderbolt of affliction falls on her head. Willyou promise me?"

They promised heartily; and more than one of the women began to cry. 

"A general assent will not satisfy me, " said Dr. Philip. "I want everyman, and every woman, to give me a hand upon it; then I shall feel sureof you. "

The men gave him their hands at once. The women wiped their hands withtheir aprons, to make sure they were clean, and gave him their handstoo. The cook said, "If any one of us goes from it, this kitchen will betoo hot to hold her. "

"Nobody will go from it, cook, " said the doctor. "I'm not afraid ofthat; and now since you have promised me, out of your own good hearts, I'll try and be even with you. If she knows nothing of it by the tenthof March, five guineas to every man and woman in this kitchen. You shallsee that, if you can be kind, we can be grateful. "

He then hurried away. He found Mr. Lusignan in the drawing-room, andtold him all this. Lusignan was fluttered, but grateful. "Ah, my goodfriend, " said he, "this is a hard trial to two old men, like you andme. "

"It is, " said Philip. "It has shown me my age. I declare I am trembling;I, whose nerves were iron. But I have a particular contempt forservants. Mercenary wretches! I think Heaven inspired me to talk tothem. After all, who knows? perhaps we might find a way to their hearts, if we did not eternally shock their vanity, and forget that it is, andmust be, far greater than our own. The women gave me their tears, and the men were earnest. Not one hand lay cold in mine. As for yourkitchen-maid, I'd trust my life to that girl. What a grip she gaveme! What strength! What fidelity was in it! My hand was never GRASPEDbefore. I think we are safe for a few days more. "

Lusignan sighed. "What does it all come to? We are pulling the triggergently, that is all. "

"No, no; that is not it. Don't let us confound the matter with similes, please. Keep them for children. "

Mrs. Staines left her bed; and would have left her room, but Dr. Philipforbade it strictly. 

One day, seated in her arm-chair, she said to the nurse, before Dr. Philip, "Nurse, why do the servants look so curiously at me?"

Mrs. Briscoe cast a hasty glance at Dr. Philip, and then said, "I don'tknow, madam. I never noticed that. "

"Uncle, why did nurse look at you before she answered such a simplequestion?"

"I don't know. What question?"

"About the servants. "

"Oh, about the servants!" said he contemptuously. 

"You should not turn up your nose at them, for they are all most kindand attentive. Only, I catch them looking at me so strangely; really--asif they--"

"Rosa, you are taking me quite out of my depth. The looks of servantgirls! Why, of course a lady in your condition is an object of especialinterest to them. I dare say they are saying to one another, 'I wonderwhen my turn will come!' A fellow-feeling makes us wondrous kind--thatis a proverb, is it not?"

"To be sure. I forgot that. "

She said no more; but seemed thoughtful, and not quite satisfied. 

On this Dr. Philip begged the maids to go near her as little aspossible. "You are not aware of it, " said he, "but your looks, andyour manner of speaking, rouse her attention, and she is quicker than Ithought she was, and observes very subtly. "

This was done; and then she complained that nobody came near her. Sheinsisted on coming down-stairs; it was so dull. 

Dr. Philip consented, if she would be content to receive no visits for aweek. 

She assented to that; and now passed some hours every day in thedrawing-room. In her morning wrappers, so fresh and crisp, she lookedlovely, and increased in health and strength every day. 

Dr. Philip used to look at her, and his very flesh would creep at thethought that, ere long, he must hurl this fair creature into the dustof affliction; must, with a word, take the ruby from her lips, the rosefrom her cheeks, the sparkle from her glorious eyes--eyes that beamedon him with sweet affection, and a mouth that never opened, but to showsome simplicity of mind, or some pretty burst of the sensitive heart. 

He put off, and put off, and at last cowardice began to whisper, "Whytell her the whole truth at all? Why not take her through stages ofdoubt, alarm, and, after all, leave a grain of hope till her child getsso rooted in her heart that"--But conscience and good sense interruptedthis temporary thought, and made him see to what a horrible life ofsuspense he should condemn a human creature, and live a perpetual lie, and be always at the edge of some pitfall or other. 

One day, while he sat looking at her, with all these thoughts, and manymore, coursing through his mind, she looked up at him, and surprisedhim. "Ah!" said she gravely. 

"What is the matter, my dear?"

"Oh, nothing, " said she cunningly. 

"Uncle, dear, " said she presently, "when do we go to Herne Bay?"

Now, Dr. Philip had given that up. He had got the servants at Kent Villaon his side, and he felt safer here than in any strange place: so hesaid, "I don't know: that all depends. There is plenty of time. "

"No, uncle, " said Rosa gravely. "I wish to leave this house. I canhardly breathe in it. "

"What! your native air?"

"Mystery is not my native air; and this house is full of mystery. Voiceswhisper at my door, and the people don't come in. The maids cast strangelooks at me, and hurry away. I scolded that pert girl Jane, and sheanswered me as meek as Moses. I catch you looking at me, with love, andsomething else. What is that something--? It is Pity: that is what itis. Do you think, because I am called a simpleton, that I have no eyes, nor ears, nor sense? What is this secret which you are all hiding fromone person, and that is me? Ah! Christopher has not written these fiveweeks. Tell me the truth, for I will know it, " and she started up inwild excitement. 

Then Dr. Philip saw the hour was come. 

He said, "My poor girl, you have read us right. I am anxious aboutChristopher, and all the servants know it. "

"Anxious, and not tell ME; his wife; the woman whose life is bound up inhis. "

"Was it for us to retard your convalescence, and set you fretting, andperhaps destroy your child? Rosa, my darling, think what a treasureHeaven has sent you, to love and care for. "

"Yes, " said she, trembling, "Heaven has been good to me; I hope Heavenwill always be as good to me. I don't deserve it; but then I tell Godso. I am very grateful, and very penitent. I never forget that, if Ihad been a good wife, my husband--five weeks is a long time. Why doyou tremble so? Why are you so pale--a strong man like you? CALAMITY!CALAMITY!"

Dr. Philip hung his head. 

She looked at him, started wildly up, then sank back into her chair. Sothe stricken deer leaps, then falls. Yet even now she put on a deceitfulcalm, and said, "Tell me the truth. I have a right to know. "

He stammered out, "There is a report of an accident at sea. "

She kept silence. 

"Of a passenger drowned--out of that ship. This, coupled with hissilence, fills our hearts with fear. "

"It is worse--you are breaking it to me--you have gone too far to stop. One word: is he alive? Oh, say he is alive!"

Philip rang the bell hard, and said in a troubled voice, "Rosa, think ofyour child. "

"Not when my husband--Is he alive or dead?"

"It is hard to say, with such a terrible report about, and no letters, "faltered the old man, his courage failing him. 

"What are you afraid of? Do you think I can't die, and go to him? Alive, or dead?" and she stood before him, raging and quivering in every limb. 

The nurse came in. 

"Fetch her child, " he cried; "God have mercy on her. "

"Ah, then he is dead, " said she, with stony calmness. "I drove him tosea, and he is dead. "

The nurse rushed in, and held the child to her. 

She would not look at it. 

"Dead!"

"Yes, our poor Christie is gone--but his child is here--the image ofhim. Do not forget the mother. Have pity on his child and yours. "

"Take it out of my sight!" she screamed. "Away with it, or I shallmurder it, as I have murdered its father. My dear Christie, before allthat live! I have killed him. I shall die for him. I shall go to him. "She raved and tore her hair. Servants rushed in. Rosa was carried to herbed, screaming and raving, and her black hair all down on both sides, apiteous sight. 

Swoon followed swoon, and that very night brain fever set in with allits sad accompaniments; a poor bereaved creature, tossing and moaning;pale, anxious, but resolute faces of the nurse and the kitchen-maidwatching: on one table a pail of ice, and on another the long, thickraven hair of our poor Simpleton, lying on clean silver paper. Dr. Philip had cut it all off with his own hand, and he was now folding itup, and crying over it; for he thought to himself, "Perhaps in a fewdays more only this will be left of her on earth. "

CHAPTER XV. 

Staines fell head-foremost into the sea with a heavy plunge. Being anexcellent swimmer, he struck out the moment he touched the water, andthat arrested his dive, and brought him up with a slant, shocked andpanting, drenched and confused. The next moment he saw, as through afog--his eyes being full of water--something fall from the ship. Hebreasted the big waves, and swam towards it: it rose on the top of awave, and he saw it was a life-buoy. Encumbered with wet clothes, heseemed impotent in the big waves; they threw him up so high, and down solow. 

Almost exhausted, he got to the life-buoy, and clutched it with a fiercegrasp and a wild cry of delight. He got it over his head, and, placinghis arms round the buoyant circle, stood with his breast and head out ofwater, gasping. 

He now drew a long breath, and got his wet hair out of his eyes, alreadysmarting with salt water, and, raising himself on the buoy, looked outfor help. 

He saw, to his great concern, the ship already at a distance. She seemedto have flown, and she was still drifting fast away from him. 

He saw no signs of help. His heart began to turn as cold as his drenchedbody. A horrible fear crossed him. 

But presently he saw the weather-boat filled, and fall into the water;and then a wave rolled between him and the ship, and he only saw hertopmast. 

The next time he rose on a mighty wave he saw the boats together asternof the vessel, but not coming his way; and the gloom was thickening, theship becoming indistinct, and all was doubt and horror. 

A life of agony passed in a few minutes. 

He rose and fell like a cork on the buoyant waves--rose and fell, andsaw nothing but the ship's lights, now terribly distant. 

But at last, as he rose and fell, he caught a few fitful glimpses of asmaller light rising and falling like himself. "A boat!" he cried, andraising himself as high as he could, shouted, cried, implored for help. He stretched his hands across the water. "This way! this way!"

The light kept moving, but it came no nearer. They had greatlyunderrated the drift. The other boat had no light. 

Minutes passed of suspense, hope, doubt, dismay, terror. Those minutesseemed hours. 

In the agony of suspense the quaking heart sent beads of sweat to thebrow, though the body was immersed. 

And the gloom deepened, and the cold waves flung him up to heaven withtheir giant arms, and then down again to hell: and still that light, hisonly hope, was several hundred yards from him. 

Only for a moment at a time could his eyeballs, straining with agony, catch this will-o'-the-wisp, the boat's light. It groped the sea up anddown, but came no near. 

When what seemed days of agony had passed, suddenly a rocket rose in thehorizon--so it seemed to him. 

The lost man gave a shriek of joy; so prone are we to interpret thingshopefully. 

Misery! The next time he saw that little light, that solitary spark ofhope, it was not quite so near as before. A mortal sickness fell on hisheart. The ship had recalled the boats by rocket. 

He shrieked, he cried, he screamed, he raved. "Oh, Rosa! Rosa! for hersake, men, men, do not leave me. I am here! here!"

In vain. The miserable man saw the boat's little light retire, recede, and melt into the ship's larger light, and that light glided away. 

Then, a cold, deadly stupor fell on him. Then, death's icy claw seizedhis heart, and seemed to run from it to every part of him. He was a deadman. Only a question of time. Nothing to gain by floating. 

But the despairing mind could not quit the world in peace, and even herein the cold, cruel sea, the quivering body clung to this fragment oflife, and winced at death's touch, though more merciful. 

He despised this weakness; he raged at it; he could not overcome it. 

Unable to live or to die, condemned to float slowly, hour by hour, downinto death's jaws. 

To a long, death-like stupor succeeded frenzy. Fury seized this greatand long-suffering mind. It rose against the cruelty and injustice ofhis fate. He cursed the world, whose stupidity had driven him to sea, he cursed remorseless nature; and at last he railed on the God who madehim, and made the cruel water, that was waiting for his body. "God'sjustice! God's mercy! God's power! they are all lies, " he shouted, "dreams, chimeras, like Him the all-powerful and good, men babble of bythe fire. If there was a God more powerful than the sea, and onlyhalf as good as men are, he would pity my poor Rosa and me, and senda hurricane to drive those caitiffs back to the wretch they haveabandoned. Nature alone is mighty. Oh, if I could have her on my side, and only God against me! But she is as deaf to prayer as He is: asmechanical and remorseless. I am a bubble melting into the sea. SoulI have none; my body will soon be nothing, nothing. So ends an honest, loving life. I always tried to love my fellow-creatures. Curse them!curse them! Curse the earth! Curse the sea! Curse all nature: there isno other God for me to curse. "

The moon came out. 

He raised his head and staring eyeballs, and cursed her. 

The wind began to whistle, and flung spray in his face. 

He raised his fallen head and staring eyeballs, and cursed the wind. 

While he was thus raving, he became sensible of a black object towindward. 

It looked like a rail, and a man leaning on it. 

He stared, he cleared the wet hair from his eyes, and stared again. 

The thing, being larger than himself and partly out of water, wasdrifting to leeward faster than himself. 

He stared and trembled, and at last it came nearly abreast, black, black. 

He gave a loud cry, and tried to swim towards it; but encumbered withhis life-buoy, he made little progress. The thing drifted abreast ofhim, but ten yards distant. 

As they each rose high upon the waves, he saw it plainly. 

It was the very raft that had been the innocent cause of his sad fate. 

He shouted with hope, he swam, he struggled; he got near it, but notto it; it drifted past, and he lost his chance of intercepting it. Hestruggled after it. The life-buoy would not let him catch it. 

Then he gave a cry of agony, rage, despair, and flung off the life-buoy, and risked all on this one chance. 

He gains a little on the raft. 

He loses. 

He gains: he cries, "Rosa! Rosa!" and struggles with all his soul, aswell as his body: he gains. 

But when almost within reach, a wave half drowns him, and he loses. 

He cries, "Rosa! Rosa!" and swims high and strong. "Rosa! Rosa! Rosa!"

He is near it. He cries, "Rosa! Rosa!" and with all the energy of loveand life flings himself almost out of the water, and catches hold of thenearest thing on the raft. 

It was the dead man's leg. 

It seemed as if it would come away in his grasp. He dared not try topull himself up by that. But he held on by it, panting, exhausting, faint. 

This faintness terrified him. "Oh, " thought he, "if I faint now, all isover. "

Holding by that terrible and strange support, he made a grasp, andcaught hold of the woodwork at the bottom of the rail. He tried to drawhimself up. Impossible. 

He was no better off than with his life-buoy. 

But in situations so dreadful, men think fast; he worked graduallyround the bottom of the raft by his hands, till he got to leeward, stillholding on. There he found a solid block of wood at the edge of theraft. He prised himself carefully up; the raft in that part then sank alittle: he got his knee upon the timber of the raft, and with a wildcry seized the nearest upright, and threw both arms round it and clungtight. Then first he found breath to speak. "THANK GOD!" he cried, kneeling on the timber, and grasping the upright post--"OH, THANK GOD!THANK GOD!"

CHAPTER XVI. 

"Thank God!" why, according to his theory, it should have been "ThankNature. " But I observe that, in such cases, even philosophers areungrateful to the mistress they worship. 

Our philosopher not only thanked God, but being on his knees, prayedforgiveness for his late ravings, prayed hard, with one arm curled roundthe upright, lest the sea, which ever and anon rushed over the bottom ofthe raft, should swallow him up in a moment. 

Then he rose carefully, and wedged himself into the corner of the raftopposite to that other figure, ominous relic of the wild voyage thenew-comer had entered upon; he put both arms over the rail, and stooderect. 

The moon was now up; but so was the breeze: fleecy clouds flew withvast rapidity across her bright face, and it was by fitful though vividglances Staines examined the raft and his companion. 

The raft was large, and well made of timbers tied and nailed together, and a strong rail ran round it resting on several uprights. There werealso some blocks of a very light wood screwed to the horizontal timbers, and these made it float high. 

But what arrested and fascinated the man's gaze was his dead companion, sole survivor, doubtless, of a horrible voyage, since the raft was notmade for one, nor by one. 

It was a skeleton, or nearly, whose clothes the seabirds had torn, andpecked every limb in all the fleshy parts; the rest of the body haddried to dark leather on the bones. The head was little more than aneyeless skull; but in the fitful moonlight, those huge hollowcaverns seemed gigantic lamp-like eyes, and glared at him fiendishly, appallingly. 

He sickened at the sight. He tried not to look at it; but it would belooked at, and threaten him in the moonlight, with great lack-lustreeyes. 

The wind whistled, and lashed his face with spray torn off the bigwaves, and the water was nearly up to his knees, and the raft tossedso wildly, it was all he could do to hold on in his corner: in whichstruggle, still those monstrous lack-lustre eyes, like lamps of death, glared at him in the moon; all else was dark, except the fiery crests ofthe black mountain-billows, tumbling and raging all around. 

What a night!

But, before morning, the breeze sank, the moon set, and a sombre quietsucceeded, with only that grim figure in outline dimly visible. Owing tothe motion still retained by the waves, it seemed to nod and rear, andbe ever preparing to rush upon him. 

The sun rose glorious, on a lovely scene; the sky was a very mosaic ofcolors sweet and vivid, and the tranquil, rippling sea, peach-colored tothe horizon, with lines of diamonds where the myriad ripples broke intosmiles. 

Staines was asleep, exhausted. Soon the light awoke him, and he lookedup. What an incongruous picture met his eye: that heaven of colorall above and around, and right before him, like a devil stuck inmid-heaven, that grinning corpse, whose fate foreshadowed his own. 

But daylight is a great strengthener of the nerves; the figure no longerappalled him--a man who had long learned to look with Science's calmeye upon the dead. When the sea became like glass, and from peach-colordeepened to rose, he walked along the raft, and inspected the dead man. He found it was a man of color, but not a black. The body was not keptin its place, as he had supposed, merely by being jammed into the anglecaused by the rail; it was also lashed to the corner upright by a long, stout belt. Staines concluded this had kept the body there, and itscompanions had been swept away. 

This was not lost on him: he removed the belt for his own use: he thenfound it was not only a belt, but a receptacle; it was nearly full ofsmall, hard substances that felt like stones. 

When he had taken it off the body, he felt a compunction. "Ought he torob the dead, and expose it to be swept into the sea at the first wave, like a dead dog?"

He was about to replace the belt, when a middle course occurred to him. He was a man who always carried certain useful little things about him, viz. , needles, thread, scissors, and string. He took a piece of string, and easily secured this poor light skeleton to the raft. The belt hestrapped to the rail, and kept for his own need. 

And now hunger gnawed him. No food was near. There was nothing but thelovely sea and sky, mosaic with color, and that grim, ominous skeleton. 

Hunger comes and goes many times before it becomes insupportable. Allthat day and night, and the next day, he suffered its pangs; and then itbecame torture, but the thirst maddening. 

Towards night fell a gentle rain. He spread a handkerchief and caughtit. He sucked the handkerchief. 

This revived him, and even allayed in some degree the pangs of hunger. 

Next day was cloudless. A hot sun glared on his unprotected head, andbattered down his enfeebled frame. 

He resisted as well as he could. He often dipped his head, and as oftenthe persistent sun, with cruel glare, made it smoke again. 

Next day the same: but the strength to meet it was waning. He lay downand thought of Rosa, and wept bitterly. He took the dead man's belt, andlashed himself to the upright. That act, and his tears for his beloved, were almost his last acts of perfect reason: for next day came thedelusions and the dreams that succeed when hunger ceases to torture, and the vital powers begin to ebb. He lay and saw pleasant meadows withmeandering streams, and clusters of rich fruit that courted the hand andmelted in the mouth. 

Ever and anon they vanished, and he saw grim death looking down on himwith those big cavernous eyes. 

By and by, whether his body's eye saw the grim skeleton, or his mind'seye the juicy fruits, green meadows, and pearly brooks, all was shadowy. 

So, in a placid calm, beneath a blue sky, the raft drifted dead, withits dead freight, upon the glassy purple, and he drifted, too, towardsthe world unknown. 

There came across the waters to that dismal raft a thing none toocommon, by sea or land--a good man. 

He was tall, stalwart, bronzed, and had hair like snow, before his time, for he had known trouble. He commanded a merchant steamer, bound forCalcutta, on the old route. 

The man at the mast-head descried a floating wreck, and hailed thedeck accordingly. The captain altered his course without one moment'shesitation, and brought up alongside, lowered a boat, and brought thedead, and the breathing man, on board. 

A young middy lifted Staines in his arms from the wreck to the boat; hewhose person I described in chapter one weighed now no more than that. 

Men are not always rougher than women. Their strength and nerve enablethem now and then to be gentler than buttery-fingered angels, who dropfrail things through sensitive agitation, and break them. These roughmen saw Staines was hovering between life and death, and they handledhim like a thing the ebbing life might be shaken out of in a moment. Itwas pretty to see how gingerly the sailors carried the sinking man upthe ladder, and one fetched swabs, and the others laid him down softlyon them at their captain's feet. 

"Well done, men, " said he. "Poor fellow! Pray Heaven, we may not havecome too late. Now stand aloof a bit. Send the surgeon aft. "

The surgeon came, and looked, and felt the heart. He shook his head, andcalled for brandy. He had Staines's head raised, and got half a spoonfulof diluted brandy down his throat. But there was an ominous gurgling. 

After several such attempts at intervals, he said plainly the man's lifecould not be saved by ordinary means. 

"Then try extraordinary, " said the captain. "My orders are that he is tobe saved. There is life in him. You have only got to keep it there. HeMUST be saved; he SHALL be saved. "

"I should like to try Dr. Staines's remedy, " said the surgeon. 

"Try it, then what is it?"

"A bath of beef-tea. Dr. Staines says he applied it to a starvedchild--in the Lancet. "

"Take a hundred-weight of beef, and boil it in the coppers. "

Thus encouraged, the surgeon went to the cook, and very soon beef wassteaming on a scale and at a rate unparalleled. 

Meantime, Captain Dodd had the patient taken to his own cabin, and heand his servant administered weak brandy and water with great cautionand skill. 

There was no perceptible result. But at all events there was life andvital instinct left, or he could not have swallowed. 

Thus they hovered about him for some hours, and then the bath was ready. 

The captain took charge of the patient's clothes: the surgeon and asailor bathed him in lukewarm beef-tea, and then covered him very warmwith blankets next the skin. Guess how near a thing it seemed to them, when I tell you they dared not rub him. 

Just before sunset his pulse became perceptible. The surgeonadministered half a spoonful of egg-flip. The patient swallowed it. 

By and by he sighed. 

"He must not be left, day or night, " said the captain. "I don't know whoor what he is, but he is a man; and I could not bear him to die now. "

That night Captain Dodd overhauled the patient's clothes, and looked formarks on his linen. There were none. 

"Poor devil" said Captain Dodd. "He is a bachelor. "

Captain Dodd found his pocket-book, with bank-notes, two hundred pounds. He took the numbers, made a memorandum of them, and locked the notes up. 

He lighted his lamp, examined the belt, unripped it, and poured out thecontents on his table. 

They were dazzling. A great many large pieces of amethyst, and someof white topaz and rock crystal; a large number of smaller stones, carbuncles, chrysolites, and not a few emeralds. Dodd looked at themwith pleasure, sparkling in the lamplight. 

"What a lot!" said he. "I wonder what they are worth!" He sent for thefirst mate, who, he knew, did a little private business in preciousstones. "Masterton, " said he, "oblige me by counting these stones withme, and valuing them. "

Mr. Masterton stared, and his mouth watered. However, he named thevarious stones and valued them. He said there was one stone, a largeemerald, without a flaw, that was worth a heavy sum by itself; and thepearls, very fine: and looking at the great number, they must be worth athousand pounds. 

Captain Dodd then entered the whole business carefully in the ship'slog: the living man he described thus: "About five feet six in height, and about fifty years of age. " Then he described the notes and thestones very exactly, and made Masterton, the valuer, sign the log. 

Staines took a good deal of egg-flip that night, and next day atesolid food; but they questioned him in vain; his reason was entirely inabeyance: he had become an eater, and nothing else. Whenever they gavehim food, he showed a sort of fawning animal gratitude. Other sentimenthe had none, nor did words enter his mind any more than a bird's. Andsince it is not pleasant to dwell on the wreck of a fine understanding, I will only say that they landed him at Cape Town, out of bodily danger, but weak, and his mind, to all appearance, a hopeless blank. 

They buried the skeleton, --read the service of the English Church over aMalabar heathen. 

Dodd took Staines to the hospital, and left twenty pounds with thegovernor of it to cure him. But he deposited Staines's money and jewelswith a friendly banker, and begged that the principal cashier might seethe man, and be able to recognize him, should he apply for his own. 

The cashier came and examined him, and also the ruby ring on hisfinger--a parting gift from Rosa--and remarked this was a new way ofdoing business. 

"Why, it is the only one, sir, " said Dodd. "How can we give you hissignature? He is not in his right mind. "

"Nor never will be. "

"Don't say that, sir. Let us hope for the best, poor fellow. "

Having made these provisions, the worthy captain weighed anchor, with awarm heart and a good conscience. Yet the image of the man he had savedpursued him, and he resolved to look after him next time he should coalat Cape Town, homeward bound. 

Staines recovered his strength in about two months; but his mindreturned in fragments, and very slowly. For a long, long time heremembered nothing that had preceded his great calamity. His mindstarted afresh, aided only by certain fixed habits; for instance, hecould read and write: but, strange as it may appear, he had no idea whohe was; and when his memory cleared a little on that head, he thoughthis surname was Christie, but he was not sure. 

Nevertheless, the presiding physician discovered in him a certainprogress of intelligence, which gave him great hopes. In the fifthmonth, having shown a marked interest in the other sick patients, coupled with a disposition to be careful and attentive, they made him anurse, or rather a sub-nurse under the special orders of a responsiblenurse. I really believe it was done at first to avoid the alternativeof sending him adrift, or transferring him to the insane ward of thehospital. In this congenial pursuit he showed such watchfulness andskill, that by and by they found they had got a treasure. Two monthsafter that he began to talk about medicine, and astonished them stillmore. He became the puzzle of the establishment. The doctor and surgeonwould converse with him, and try and lead him to his past life; but whenit came to that, he used to put his hands to his head with a face ofgreat distress, and it was clear some impassable barrier lay betweenhis growing intelligence and the past events of his life. Indeed, onone occasion, he said to his kind friend the doctor, "The past!--a blackwall! a black wall!"

Ten months after his admission he was promoted to be an attendant, witha salary. 

He put by every shilling of it; for he said, "A voice from the dark pasttells me money is everything in this world. "

A discussion was held by the authorities as to whether he should beinformed he had money and jewels at the bank or not. 

Upon the whole, it was thought advisable to postpone this information, lest he should throw it away; but they told him he had been picked upat sea, and both money and jewels found on him; they were in safe hands, only the person was away for the time. Still, he was not to look uponhimself as either friendless or moneyless. 

At this communication he showed an almost childish delight, thatconfirmed the doctor in his opinion he was acting prudently, and for thereal benefit of an amiable and afflicted person, not yet to be trustedwith money and jewels. 

CHAPTER XVII. 

In his quality of attendant on the sick, Staines sometimes conducteda weak but convalescent patient into the open air; and he was alwayspleased to do this, for the air of the Cape carries health and vigor onits wings. He had seen its fine recreative properties, and he divined, somehow, that the minds of convalescents ought to be amused, and so heoften begged the doctor to let him take a convalescent abroad. Soonerthan not, he would draw the patient several miles in a Bath chair. Herather liked this; for he was a Hercules, and had no egotism or falsepride where the sick were concerned. 

Now, these open-air walks exerted a beneficial influence on his owndarkened mind. It is one thing to struggle from idea to idea; it isanother when material objects mingle with the retrospect; they seemto supply stepping-stones in the gradual resuscitation of memory andreason. 

The ships going out of port were such a steppingstone to him, and avague consciousness came back to him of having been in a ship. 

Unfortunately, along with this reminiscence came a desire to go in oneagain; and this sowed discontent in his mind, and the more that mindenlarged, the more he began to dislike the hospital and its confinement. The feeling grew, and bade fair to disqualify him for his humble office. The authorities could not fail to hear of this, and they had a littlediscussion about parting with him; but they hesitated to turn himadrift, and they still doubted the propriety of trusting him with moneyand jewels. 

While matters were in this state a remarkable event occurred. He drew asick patient down to the quay one morning, and watched the business ofthe port with the keenest interest. A ship at anchor was unloading, and a great heavy boat was sticking to her side like a black leech. Presently this boat came away, and moved sluggishly towards the shore, rather by help of the tide than of the two men who went through the formof propelling her with two monstrous sweeps, while a third steered her. She contained English goods: agricultural implements, some cases, fourhorses, and a buxom young woman with a thorough English face. The womanseemed a little excited, and as she neared the landing-place, she calledout in jocund tones to a young man on the shore, "It is all right, Dick;they are beauties, " and she patted the beasts as people do who are fondof them. 

She stepped lightly ashore, and then came the slower work of landing herimports. She bustled about, like a hen over her brood, and wasn't alwaystalking, but put in her word every now and then, never crossly, andalways to the point. 

Staines listened to her, and examined her with a sort of puzzled look;but she took no notice of him; her whole soul was in the cattle. 

They got the things on board well enough; but the horses were frightenedat the gangway, and jibbed. Then a man was for driving them, and pokedone of them in the quarter; he snorted and reared directly. 

"Man alive!" cried the young woman, "that is not the way. They aredocile enough, but frightened. Encourage 'em, and let 'em look at it. Give 'em time. More haste less speed, with timorous cattle. "

"That is a very pleasant voice, " said poor Staines, rather moredictatorially than became the present state of his intellect. He addedsoftly, "a true woman's voice;" then gloomily, "a voice of the past--thedark, dark past. "

At this speech intruding itself upon the short sentences of business, there was a roar of laughter, and Phoebe Falcon turned sharply round tolook at the speaker. She stared at him; she cried "Oh!" and clasped herhands, and colored all over. "Why, sure, " said she, "I can't be mistook. Those eyes--'tis you, doctor, isn't it?"

"Doctor?" said Staines, with a puzzled look. "Yes; I think they calledme doctor once. I'm an attendant in the hospital now. "

"Dick!" cried Phoebe, in no little agitation. "Come here this minute. "

"What, afore I get the horses ashore?"

"Ay, before you do another thing, or say another word. Come here, now. "So he came, and she told him to take a good look at the man. "Now, " saidshe, "who is that?"

"Blest if I know, " said he. 

"What, not know the man who saved your own life! Oh, Dick, what are youreyes worth?"

This discourse brought the few persons within hearing into one band ofexcited starers. 

Dick took a good look, and said, "I'm blest if I don't, though; it isthe doctor that cut my throat. "

This strange statement drew forth quite a shout of ejaculations. 

"Oh, better breathe through a slit than not at all, " said Dick. "Savedmy life with that cut, he did, didn't he, Pheeb?"

"That he did, Dick. Dear heart, I hardly know whether I am in my sensesor not, seeing him a-looking so blank. You try him. "

Dick came forward. "Sure you remember me, sir. Dick Dale. You cut mythroat, and saved my life. "

"Cut your throat! why, that would kill you. "

"Not the way you done it. Well, sir, you ain't the man you was, that isclear; but you was a good friend to me, and there's my hand. "

"Thank you, Dick, " said Staines, and took his hand. "I don't rememberYOU. Perhaps you are one of the past. The past is dead wall to me--adark dead wall, " and he put his hands to his head with a look ofdistress. 

Everybody there now suspected the truth, and some pointed mysteriouslyto their own heads. 

Phoebe whispered an inquiry to the sick person. 

He said a little pettishly, "All I know is, he is the kindest attendantin the ward, and very attentive. "

"Oh, then, he is in the public hospital. "

"Of course he is. "

The invalid, with the selfishness of his class, then begged Staines totake him out of all this bustle down to the beach. Staines complied atonce, with the utmost meekness, and said, "Good-by, old friends; forgiveme for not remembering you. It is my great affliction that the pastis gone from me--gone, gone. " And he went sadly away, drawing his sickcharge like a patient mule. 

Phoebe Falcon looked after him, and began to cry. 

"Nay, nay, Phoebe, " said Dick; "don't ye take on about it. "

"I wonder at you, " sobbed Phoebe. "Good people, I'm fonder of my brotherthan he is of himself, it seems; for I can't take it so easy. Well, theworld is full of trouble. Let us do what we are here for. But I shallpray for the poor soul every night, that his mind may be given back tohim. "

So then she bustled, and gave herself to getting the cattle on shore, and the things put on board her wagon. 

But when this was done, she said to her brother, "Dick, I did not thinkanything on earth could take my heart off the cattle and the things wehave got from home; but I can't leave this without going to the hospitalabout our poor dear doctor: and it is late for making a start, anyway--and you mustn't forget the newspapers for Reginald--he is so fondof them--and you must contrive to have one sent out regular after this, and I'll go to the hospital. "

She went, and saw the head doctor, and told him he had got an attendantthere she had known in England in a very different condition, and shehad come to see if there was anything she could do for him--for she feltvery grateful to him, and grieved to see him so. 

The doctor was pleased and surprised, and put several questions. 

Then she gave him a clear statement of what he had done for Dick inEngland. 

"Well, " said the doctor, "I believe it is the same man; for, now youtell me this--yes, one of the nurses told me he knew more about medicinethan she did. His name, if you please. "

"His name, sir?"

"Yes, his name. Of course you know his name. Is it Christie?"

"Doctor, " said Phoebe, blushing, "I don't know what you will think ofme, but I don't know his name. Laws forgive me, I never had the sense toask it. "

A shade of suspicion crossed the doctor's face. 

Phoebe saw it, and colored to the temples. "Oh, sir, " she criedpiteously, "don't go for to think I have told you a lie! why should I?and indeed I am not of that sort, nor Dick neither. Sir, I'll bringhim to you, and he will say the same. Well, we were all in terror andconfusion, and I met him accidentally in the street. He was only acustomer till then, and paid ready money, so that is how I never knewhis name, but if I hadn't been the greatest fool in England, I shouldhave asked his wife. "

"What! he has a wife?"

"Ay, sir, the loveliest lady you ever clapped eyes on, and he is almostas handsome; has eyes in his head like jewels; 'twas by them I knew himon the quay, and I think he knew my voice again, said as good as he hadheard it in past times. "

"Did he? Then we have got him, " cried the doctor energetically. 

"La, Sir. "

"Yes; if he knows your voice, you will be able in time to lead hismemory back; at least, I think so. Do you live in Cape Town?"

"Dear heart, no. I live at my own farm, a hundred and eighty miles fromthis. "

"What a pity!"

"Why, sir?"

"Well--hum!"

"Oh, if you think I could do the poor doctor good by having him withme, you have only to say the word, and out he goes with Dick and meto-morrow morning. We should have started for home to-night, but forthis. "

"Are you in earnest, madam?" said the doctor, opening his eyes. "Wouldyou really encumber yourself with a person whose reason is in suspense, and may never return?"

"But that is not his fault, sir. Why, if a dog had saved my brother'slife, I'd take it home, and keep it all its days; and this is a man, anda worthy man. Oh, sir, when I saw him brought down so, and his beautifuleyes clouded like, my very bosom yearned over the poor soul; a kind actdone in dear old England, who can see the man in trouble here, andnot repay it--ay, if it cost one's blood. But indeed he is strong andhealthy, and hands are always scarce our way, and the odds are he willearn his meat one way or t'other; and if he doesn't, why, all the betterfor me; I shall have the pleasure of serving him for nought that onceserved me for neither money nor reward. "

"You are a good woman, " said the doctor warmly. 

"There's better, and there's worse, " said Phoebe quietly, and even alittle coldly. 

"More of the latter, " said the doctor dryly. "Well, Mrs. --?"

"Falcon, sir. "

"We shall hand him over to your care: but first--just for form--ifyou are a married woman, we should like to see Dick here: he is yourhusband, I presume. "

Ploebe laughed merrily. "Dick is my brother; and he can't be spared tocome here. Dick! he'd say black was white if I told him to. "

"Then let us see your husband about it--just for form. "

"My husband is at the farm. I could not venture so far away, and notleave him in charge. " If she had said, "I will not bring him intotemptation, " that would have been nearer the truth. "Let that fly stickon the wall, sir. What I do, my husband will approve. "

"I see how it is. You rule the roost. "

Phoebe did not reply point-blank to that; she merely said, "All mychickens are happy, great and small, " and an expression of lofty, womanly, innocent pride illuminated her face and made it superb for amoment. 

In short, it was settled that Staines should accompany her next morningto Dale's Kloof Farm, if he chose. On inquiry, it appeared that he hadjust returned to the hospital with his patient. He was sent for, andPhoebe asked him sweetly if he would go with her to her house, onehundred and eighty miles away, and she would be kind to him. 

"On the water?"

"Nay, by land; but 'tis a fine country, and you will see beautiful deerand things running across the plains, and"--

"Shall I find the past again, the past again?"

"Ay, poor soul, that we shall, God willing. You and I, we will hunt ittogether. "

He looked at her, and gave her his hand. "I will go with you. Your facebelongs to the past, so does your voice. "

He then inquired, rather abruptly, had she any children. She smiled. 

"Ay, that I have, the loveliest little boy you ever saw. When you are asyou used to be, you will be his doctor, won't you?"

"Yes, I will nurse him, and you will help me find the past. "

Phoebe then begged Staines to be ready to start at six in the morning. She and Dick would take him up on their way. 

While she was talking to him the doctor slipped out, and to tell thetruth he went to consult with another authority, whether he should takethis opportunity of telling Staines that he had money and jewels at thebank: he himself was half inclined to do so; but the other, who had notseen Phoebe's face, advised him to do nothing of the kind. "They arealways short of money, these colonial farmers, " said he; "she would getevery shilling out of him. "

"Most would; but this is such an honest face. "

"Well, but she is a mother, you say. "

"Yes. "

"Well, what mother could be just to a lunatic, with her own sweet angelbabes to provide for?"

"That is true, " said Dr. ----. "Maternal love is apt to modify theconscience. "

"What I would do, --I would take her address, and make her promise towrite if he gets well, and if he does get well then write to HIM, andtell him all about it. "

Dr. ---- acted on this shrewd advice, and ordered a bundle to be made upfor the traveller out of the hospital stores: it contained a nice lightsummer suit and two changes of linen. 

CHAPTER XVIII. 

Next morning, Staines and Dick Dale walked through the streets of CapeTown side by side. Dick felt the uneasiness of a sane man, not familiarwith the mentally afflicted, who suddenly finds himself alone with one. Insanity turns men oftenest into sheep and hares; but it does now andthen make them wolves and tigers; and that has saddled the insane ingeneral with a character for ferocity. Young Dale, then, cast many asuspicious glance at his comrade, as he took him along. These glanceswere reassuring: Christopher's face had no longer the mobility, theexpressive changes, that mark the superior mind; his countenance wasmonotonous: but the one expression was engaging; there was a sweet, patient, lamb-like look: the glorious eye a little troubled andperplexed, but wonderfully mild. Dick Dale looked and looked, and hisuneasiness vanished. And the more he looked, the more did a certainwonder creep over him, and make him scarce believe the thing he knew;viz. , that a learned doctor had saved him from the jaws of death by rareknowledge, sagacity, courage, and skill combined: and that mighty man ofwisdom was brought down to this lamb, and would go north, south, east, or west, with sweet and perfect submission, even as he, Dick Dale, should appoint. With these reflections honest Dick felt his eyes get alittle misty, and, to use those words of Scripture, which nothing cansurpass or equal, his bowels yearned over the man. 

As for Christopher, he looked straight forward, and said not a word tillthey cleared the town; but when he saw the vast flowery vale, and thefar-off violet hills, like Scotland glorified, he turned to Dick withan ineffable expression of sweetness and good fellowship, and said, "Oh, beautiful! We'll hunt the past together. "

"We--will--SO, " said Dick, with a sturdy and indeed almost a sternresolution. 

Now, this he said, not that he cared for the past, nor intended to wastethe present by going upon its predecessor's trail; but he had come to aresolution--full three minutes ago--to humor his companion to the topof his bent, and say "Yes" with hypocritical vigor to everything notdirectly and immediately destructive to him and his. 

The next moment they turned a corner and came upon the rest of theirparty, hitherto hidden by the apricot hedge and a turning in the road. A blue-black Kafir, with two yellow Hottentot drivers, man and boy, washarnessing, in the most primitive mode, four horses on to the six oxenattached to the wagon; and the horses were flattening their ears, and otherwise resenting the incongruity. Meantime a fourth figure, acolossal young Kafir woman, looked on superior with folded arms, like asable Juno looking down with that absolute composure upon the strugglesof man and other animals, which Lucretius and his master Epicurusassigned to the Divine nature. Without jesting, the grandeur, majesty, and repose of this figure were unsurpassable in nature, and such as havevanished from sculpture two thousand years and more. 

Dick Dale joined the group immediately, and soon arranged the matter. Meantime, Phoebe descended from the wagon, and welcomed Christopher verykindly, and asked him if he would like to sit beside her, or to walk. 

He glanced into the wagon; it was covered and curtained, and dark as acupboard. "I think, " said he, timidly, "I shall see more of the past outhere. "

"So you will, poor soul, " said Phoebe kindly, "and better for yourhealth: but you must not go far from the wagon, for I'm a fidget; andI have got the care of you now, you know, for want of a better. Come, Ucatella; you must ride with me, and help me sort the things; they areall higgledy-piggledy. " So those two got into the wagon through the backcurtains. Then the Kafir driver flourished his kambok, or long whip, inthe air, and made it crack like a pistol, and the horses reared, and theoxen started and slowly bored in between them, for they whinnied, andkicked, and spread out like a fan all over the road; but a flick ortwo from the terrible kambok soon sent them bleeding and trembling andrubbing shoulders, and the oxen, mildly but persistently goring theirrecalcitrating haunches, the intelligent animals went ahead, andrevenged themselves by breaking the harness. But that goes for little inCape travel. 

The body of the wagon was long and low and very stout. The tilt strongand tight-made. The roof inside, and most of the sides, lined with greenbaize. Curtains of the same to the little window and the back. Therewas a sort of hold literally built full of purchases; a small fireproofsafe; huge blocks of salt; saws, axes, pickaxes, adzes, flails, toolsinnumerable, bales of wool and linen stuff, hams, and two hundred emptysacks strewn over all. In large pigeon-holes fixed to the sides werelight goods, groceries, collars, glaring cotton handkerchiefs forPhoebe's aboriginal domestics, since not every year did she go to CapeTown, a twenty days' journey by wagon: things dangled from the veryroof; but no hard goods there, if you please, to batter one's head in aspill. Outside were latticed grooves with tent, tent-poles, and rifles. Great pieces of cork, and bags of hay and corn, hung dangling frommighty hooks--the latter to feed the cattle, should they be compelledto camp out on some sterile spot on the Veldt, and methinks to actas buffers, should the whole concern roll down a nullah or littleprecipice, no very uncommon incident in the blessed region they mustpass to reach Dale's Kloof. 

Harness mended; fresh start. The Hottentots and Kafir vociferated andyelled, and made the unearthly row of a dozen wild beasts wrangling: thehorses drew the bullocks, they the wagon; it crawled and creaked, andits appendages wobbled finely. 

Slowly they creaked and wobbled past apricot hedges and detached housesand huts, and got into an open country without a tree, but here andthere a stunted camel-thorn. The soil was arid, and grew little foodfor man or beast; yet, by a singular freak of nature, it put forthabundantly things that here at home we find it harder to raise thanhomely grass and oats; the ground was thickly clad with flowers ofdelightful hues; pyramids of snow or rose-color bordered the track;yellow and crimson stars bejewelled the ground, and a thousand bulbousplants burst into all imaginable colors, and spread a rainbow carpetto the foot of the violet hills; and all this glowed, and gleamed, andglittered in a sun shining with incredible brightness and purity oflight, but, somehow, without giving a headache or making the air sultry. 

Christopher fell to gathering flowers, and interrogating the past bymeans of them; for he had studied botany: the past gave him back somepitiably vague ideas. He sighed. "Never mind, " said he to Dick, andtapped his forehead: "it is here: it is only locked up. "

"All right, " said Dick; "nothing is lost when you know where 'tis. "

"This is a beautiful country, " suggested Christopher. "It is allflowers. It is like the garden of--the garden of--locked up. "

"It is de--light--ful, " replied the self-compelled optimist sturdily. But here nature gave way; he was obliged to relieve his agriculturalbile by getting into the cart and complaining to his sister. "'Twilltake us all our time to cure him. He have been bepraising this heresoil, which it is only fit to clean the women's kettles. 'Twouldn't feedthree larks to an acre, I know; no, NOR HALF SO MANY. "

"Poor soul! mayhap the flowers have took his eye. Sit here a bit, Dick. I want to talk to you about a many things. "

While these two were conversing, Ucatella, who was very fond of Phoebe, but abhorred wagons, stepped out and stalked by the side, like anostrich, a camelopard, or a Taglioni; nor did the effort with whichshe subdued her stride to the pace of the procession appear: it wasthe poetry of walking. Christopher admired it a moment; but the nobleexpanse tempted him, and he strode forth like a giant, his lungsinflating in the glorious air, and soon left the wagon far behind. 

The consequence was that when they came to a halt, and Dick and Phoebegot out to release and water the cattle, there was Christopher's figureretiring into space. 

"Hanc rem aegre tulit Phoebe, " as my old friend Livy would say. "Ohdear! oh dear! if he strays so far from us, he will be eaten up atnightfall by jackals, or lions, or something. One of you must go afterhim. "

"Me go, missy, " said Ucatella zealously, pleased with an excuse forstretching her magnificent limbs. 

"Ay, but mayhap he will not come back with YOU: will he, Dick?"

"That he will, like a lamb. " Dick wanted to look after the cattle. 

"Yuke, my girl, " said Phoebe, "listen. He has been a good friend of oursin trouble; and now he is not quite right HERE. So be very kind to him, but be sure and bring him back, or keep him till we come. "

"Me bring him back alive, certain sure, " said Ucatella, smiling from earto ear. She started with a sudden glide, like a boat taking the water, and appeared almost to saunter away, so easy was the motion; but whenyou looked at the ground she was covering, the stride, or glide, orwhatever it was, was amazing. 

"She seem'd in walking to devour the way. "

Christopher walked fast, but nothing like this; and as he stopped attimes to botanize and gaze at the violet hills, and interrogate thepast, she came up with him about five miles from the halting-place. 

She laid her hand quietly on his shoulder, and said, with a broad genialsmile, and a musical chuckle, "Ucatella come for you. Missy want tospeak you. "

"Oh! very well;" and he turned back with her, directly; but she took himby the hand to make sure; and they marched back peaceably, in silence, and hand in hand. But he looked and looked at her, and at last hestopped dead short, and said, a little arrogantly, "Come, I know YOU. YOU are not locked up;" and he inspected her point-blank. She stoodlike an antique statue, and faced the examination. "You are 'the noblesavage, '" said he, having concluded his inspection. 

"Nay, " said she. "I be the housemaid. "

"The housemaid?"

"Iss, the housemaid, Ucatella. So come on. " And she drew him along, soreperplexed. 

They met the cavalcade a mile from the halting-place, and Phoebeapologized a little to Christopher. "I hope you'll excuse me, sir, " saidshe, "but I am just for all the world like a hen with her chickens; ifbut one strays, I'm all in a flutter till I get him back. "

"Madam, " said Christopher, "I am very unhappy at the way things arelocked up. Please tell me truly, is this 'the housemaid, ' or 'the noblesavage'?"

"Well, she is both, if you go to that, and the best creature everbreathed. "

"Then she IS 'the noble savage'?"

"Ay, so they call her, because she is black. "

"Then, thank Heaven, " said Christopher, "the past is not all locked up. "

That afternoon they stopped at an inn. But Dick slept in the cart. At three in the morning they took the road again, and creaked alongsupernaturally loud under a purple firmament studded with huge stars, all bright as moons, that lit the way quite clear, and showed blackthings innumerable flitting to and fro; these made Phoebe shudder, but were no doubt harmless; still Dick carried his double rifle, and arevolver in his belt. 

They made a fine march in the cool, until some slight mists gathered, and then they halted and breakfasted near a silvery kloof, and wateredthe cattle. While thus employed, suddenly a golden tinge seemed tofall like a lash on the vapors of night; they scudded away directly, asjackals before the lion; the stars paled, and with one incredible bound, the mighty sun leaped into the horizon, and rose into the sky. In amoment all the lesser lamps of heaven were out, though late so glorious, and there was nothing but one vast vaulted turquoise, and a greatflaming topaz mounting with eternal ardor to its centre. 

This did not escape Christopher. "What is this?" said he. "No twilight. The tropics!" He managed to dig that word out of the past in a moment. 

At ten o'clock the sun was so hot that they halted, and let the oxenloose till sun-down. Then they began to climb the mountains. 

The way was steep and rugged; indeed, so rough in places, that thecattle had to jump over the holes, and as the wagon could not jump socleverly, it jolted appallingly, and many a scream issued forth. 

Near the summit, when the poor beasts were dead beat, they got intoclouds and storms, and the wind rushed howling at them through thenarrow pass with such fury it flattened the horses' ears, and bade fairto sweep the whole cavalcade to the plains below. 

Christopher and Dick walked close behind, under the lee of the wagon. Christopher said in Dick's ear, "D'ye hear that? Time to reef topsails, captain. "

"It is time to do SOMETHING, " said Dick. He took advantage of a juttingrock, drew the wagon half behind it and across the road, propped thewheels with stones, and they all huddled to leeward, man and beastindiscriminately. 

"Ah!" said Christopher, approvingly; "we are lying to: avery--proper--course. "

They huddled and shivered three hours, and then the sun leaped into thesky, and lo! a transformation scene. The cold clouds were first rosyfleeces, then golden ones, then gold-dust, then gone; the rain wasbig diamonds, then crystal sparks, then gone; the rocks and the bushessparkled with gem-like drops, and shone and smiled. 

The shivering party bustled, and toasted the potent luminary in hotcoffee; for Phoebe's wagon had a stove and chimney; and then they yokedtheir miscellaneous cattle again, and breasted the hill. With manya jump, and bump, and jolt, and scream from inside, they reached thesummit, and looked down on a vast slope, flowering but arid, a region ofgaudy sterility. 

The descent was more tremendous than the ascent, and Phoebe got out, and told Christopher she would liever cross the ocean twice than thisdreadful mountain once. 

The Hottentot with the reins was now bent like a bow all the time, keeping the cattle from flowing diverse over precipices, and the Kafirwith his kambok was here, and there, and everywhere, his whip flickinglike a lancet, and cracking like a horse-pistol, and the pair vied likeApollo and Pan, not which could sing sweetest, but swear loudest. Havingthe lofty hill for some hours between them and the sun, they bumped, andjolted, and stuck in mud-holes, and flogged and swore the cattle outof them again, till at last they got to the bottom, where ran a turbidkloof or stream. It was fordable, but the recent rains had licked awaythe slope; so the existing bank was two feet above the stream. Littlerecked the demon drivers or the parched cattle; in they plungedpromiscuously, with a flop like thunder, followed by an awful splashing. The wagon stuck fast in the mud, the horses tied themselves in a knot, and rolled about in the stream, and the oxen drank imperturbably. 

"Oh, the salt! the salt!" screamed Phoebe, and the rocks re-echoed herlamentations. 

The wagon was inextricable, the cattle done up, the savages lazy, sothey stayed for several hours. Christopher botanized, but not alone. Phoebe drew Ucatella apart, and explained to her that when a man is alittle wrong in the head, it makes a child of him: "So, " said she, "youmust think he is your child, and never let him out of your sight. "

"All right, " said the sable Juno, who spoke English ridiculously well, and rapped out idioms; especially "Come on, " and "All right. "

About dusk, what the drivers had foreseen, though they had not the senseto explain it, took place; the kloof dwindled to a mere gutter, and thewagon stuck high and dry. Phoebe waved her handkerchief to Ucatella. Ucatella, who had dogged Christopher about four hours without a word, now took his hand, and said, "My child, missy wants us; come on;" and soled him unresistingly. 

The drivers, flogging like devils, cursing like troopers, and yellinglike hyenas gone mad, tried to get the wagon off; but it was fast as arock. Then Dick and the Hottentot put their shoulders to one wheel, andtried to prise it up, while the Kafir ENCOURAGED the cattle with histhong. Observing this, Christopher went in, with his sable custodian athis heels, and heaved at the other embedded wheel. The wagon was lifteddirectly, so that the cattle tugged it out, and they got clear. Onexamination, the salt had just escaped. 

Says Ucatella to Phoebe, a little ostentatiously, "My child is strongand useful; make little missy a good slave. "

"A slave! Heaven forbid!" said Phoebe. "He'll be a father to us all, once he gets his head back; and I do think it is coming--but very slow. "

The next three days offered the ordinary incidents of African travel, but nothing that operated much on Christopher's mind, which is thetrue point of this narrative; and as there are many admirable books ofAfrican travel, it is the more proper I should confine myself to whatmay be called the relevant incidents of the journey. 

On the sixth day from Cape Town, they came up with a large wagon stuckin a mud-hole. There was quite a party of Boers, Hottentots, Kafirs, round it, armed with whips, shamboks, and oaths, lashing and cursingwithout intermission, or any good effect; and there were the wretchedbeasts straining in vain at their choking yokes, moaning with anguish, trembling with terror, their poor mild eyes dilated with agony and fear, and often, when the blows of the cruel shamboks cut open their bleedingflesh, they bellowed to Heaven their miserable and vain protest againstthis devil's work. 

Then the past opened its stores, and lent Christopher a word. 

"BARBARIANS!" he roared, and seized a gigantic Kafir by the throat, just as his shambok descended for the hundredth time. There was a mightystruggle, as of two Titans; dust flew round the combatants in a cloud; awhirling of big bodies, and down they both went with an awful thud, theSaxon uppermost, by Nature's law. 

The Kafir's companions, amazed at first, began to roll their eyes anddraw a knife or two; but Dick ran forward, and said, "Don't hurt him: heis wrong HERE. "

This representation pacified them more readily than one might haveexpected. Dick added hastily, "We'll get you out of the hole OUR way, and cry quits. "

The proposal was favorably received, and the next minute Christopher andUcatella at one wheel, and Dick and the Hottentot at the other, with noother help than two pointed iron bars bought for their shepherds, hadeffected what sixteen oxen could not. To do this Dick Dale had bared hisarm to the shoulder; it was a stalwart limb, like his sister's, and henow held it out all swollen and corded, and slapped it with his otherhand. "Look'ee here, you chaps, " said he: "the worst use a man can putthat there to is to go cutting out a poor beast's heart for not doingmore than he can. You are good fellows, you Kafirs; but I think you havesworn never to put your shoulder to a wheel. But, bless your poor sillyhearts, a little strength put on at the right place is better than adeal at the wrong. "

"You hear that, you Kafir chaps?" inquired Ucatella, a littlearrogantly--for a Kafir. 

The Kafirs, who had stood quite silent to imbibe these remarks, bowedtheir heads with all the dignity and politeness of Roman senators, Spanish grandees, etc. ; and one of the party replied gravely, "The wordsof the white man are always wise. "

"And his arm blanked* strong, " said Christopher's late opponent, fromwhose mind, however, all resentment had vanished. 

 * I take this very useful expression from a delightful volume by Mr. Boyle. 

Thus spake the Kafirs; yet to this day never hath a man of all theirtribe put his shoulder to a wheel, so strong is custom in South Africa;probably in all Africa; since I remember St. Augustin found it strongerthan he liked, at Carthage. 

Ucatella went to Phoebe, and said, "Missy, my child is good and brave. "

"Bother you and your child!" said poor Phoebe. "To think of his flyingat a giant like that, and you letting of him. I'm all of a tremble fromhead to foot:" and Phoebe relieved herself with a cry. 

"Oh, missy!" said Ucatella. 

"There, never mind me. Do go and look after your child, and keep him outof more mischief. I wish we were safe at Dale's Kloof, I do. "

Ucatella complied, and went botanizing with Dr. Staines; but thatgentleman, in the course of his scientific researches into camomileflowers and blasted heath, which were all that lovely region afforded, suddenly succumbed and stretched out his limbs, and said, sleepily, "Good-night--U--cat--" and was off into the land of Nod. 

The wagon, which, by the way, had passed the larger but slower vehicle, found him fast asleep, and Ucatella standing by him as ordered, motionless and grand. 

"Oh, dear! what now?" said Phoebe: but being a sensible woman, thoughin the hen and chickens line, she said, "'Tis the fighting and theexcitement. 'Twill do him more good than harm, I think:" and she had himbestowed in the wagon, and never disturbed him night nor day. He sleptthirty-six hours at a stretch; and when he awoke, she noticed a slightchange in his eye. He looked at her with an interest he had not shownbefore, and said, "Madam, I know you. "

"Thank God for that, " said Phoebe. 

"You kept a little shop, in the other world. "

Phoebe opened her eyes with some little alarm. 

"You understand--the world that is locked up--for the present. "

"Well, sir, so I did; and sold you milk and butter. Don't you mind?"

"No--the milk and butter--they are locked up. "

The country became wilder, the signs of life miserably sparse; aboutevery twenty miles the farmhouse or hut of a degenerate Boer, whosechildren and slaves pigged together, and all ran jostling, and themistress screamed in her shrill Dutch, and the Hottentots all chirpedtogether, and confusion reigned for want of method: often they wentmiles, and saw nothing but a hut or two, with a nude Hottentot eatingflesh, burnt a little, but not cooked, at the door; and the kloofsbecame deeper and more turbid, and Phoebe was in an agony about hersalt, and Christopher advised her to break it in big lumps, and hang itall about the wagon in sacks; and she did, and Ucatella said profoundly, "My child is wise;" and they began to draw near home, and Phoebe tofidget; and she said to Christopher, "Oh, dear! I hope they are allalive and well: once you leave home, you don't know what may havehappened by then you come back. One comfort, I've got Sophy: she is verydependable, and no beauty, thank my stars. "

That night, the last they had to travel, was cloudy, for a wonder, andthey groped with lanterns. 

Ucatella and her child brought up the rear. Presently there was a lightpattering behind them. The swift-eared Ucatella clutched Christopher'sarm, and turning round, pointed back, with eyeballs white and rolling. There were full a dozen animals following them, whose bodies seemedcolorless as shadows, but their eyes little balls of flaming lime-light. 

"GUN!" said Christie, and gave the Kafir's arm a pinch. She flew to thecaravan; he walked backwards, facing the foe. The wagon was halted, and Dick ran back with two loaded rifles. In his haste he gave oneto Christopher, and repented at leisure; but Christopher took it, and handled it like an experienced person, and said, with delight, "VOLUNTEER. " But with this the cautious animals had vanished likebubbles. But Dick told Christopher they would be sure to come back; heordered Ucatella into the wagon, and told her to warn Phoebe not tobe frightened if guns should be fired. This soothing message broughtPhoebe's white face out between the curtains, and she implored them toget into the wagon, and not tempt Providence. 

"Not till I have got thee a kaross of jackal's fur. "

"I'll never wear it!" said Phoebe violently, to divert him from hispurpose. 

"Time will show, " said Dick dryly. "These varmint are on and offlike shadows, and as cunning as Old Nick. We two will walk on quiteunconcerned like, and as soon as ever the varmint are at our heels yougive us the office; and we'll pepper their fur--won't we, doctor?"

"We--will--pepper--their fur, " said Christopher, repeating what to himwas a lesson in the ancient and venerable English tongue. 

So they walked on expectant; and by and by the four-footed shadows withlarge lime-light eyes came stealing on; and Phoebe shrieked, and theyvanished before the men could draw a bead on them. 

"Thou's no use at this work, Pheeb, " said Dick. "Shut thy eyes, and letus have Yuke. "

"Iss, master: here I be. "

"You can bleat like a lamb; for I've heard ye. "

"Iss, master. I bleats beautiful;" and she showed snowy teeth from earto ear. 

"Well, then, when the varmint are at our heels, draw in thy woolly head, and bleat like a young lamb. They won't turn from that, I know, thevagabonds. "

Matters being thus prepared, they sauntered on; but the jackals werevery wary. They came like shadows, so departed--a great many times: butat last being re-enforced, they lessened the distance, and got so close, that Ucatella withdrew her head, and bleated faintly inside the wagon. The men turned, levelling their rifles, and found the troop withintwenty yards of them. They wheeled directly: but the four barrels pouredtheir flame, four loud reports startled the night, and one jackal laydead as a stone, another limped behind the flying crowd, and one laykicking. He was soon despatched, and both carcasses flung over thepatient oxen; and good-by jackals for the rest of that journey. 

Ucatella, with all a Kafir's love of fire-arms, clapped her hands withdelight. "My child shoots loud and strong, " said she. 

"Ay, ay, " replied Phoebe; "they are all alike; wherever there's men, look for quarrelling and firing off. We had only to sit quiet in thewagon. "

"Ay. " said Dick, "the cattle especially--for it is them the varmint wereafter--and let 'em eat my Hottentots. "

At this picture of the cattle inside the wagon, and the jackals suppingon cold Hottentot alongside, Phoebe, who had no more humor than a cat, but a heart of gold, shut up, and turned red with confusion at her falseestimate of the recent transaction in fur. 

When the sun rose they found themselves in a tract somewhat less aridand inhuman; and, at last, at the rise of a gentle slope, they saw, halfa mile before them, a large farmhouse partly clad with creepers, and alittle plot of turf, the fruit of eternal watering; item, a flower-bed;item, snow-white palings; item, an air of cleanliness and neatnessscarcely known to those dirty descendants of clean ancestors, the Boers. At some distance a very large dam glittered in the sun, and a troop ofsnow-white sheep were watering at it. 

"ENGLAND!" cried Christopher. 

"Ay, sir, " said Phoebe; "as nigh as man can make it. " But soon she beganto fret: "Oh, dear! where are they all? If it was me, I'd be at the doorlooking out. Ah, there goes Yuke to rouse them up. "

"Come, Pheeb, don't you fidget, " said Dick kindly. "Why, the lazy lotare scarce out of their beds by this time. "

"More shame for 'em. If they were away from me, and coming home, Ishould be at the door day AND night, I know. Ah!"

She uttered a scream of delight, for just then, out came Ucatella, withlittle Tommy on her shoulder, and danced along to meet her. As she cameclose, she raised the chubby child high in the air, and he crowed;and then she lowered him to his mother, who rushed at him, seized, and devoured him with a hundred inarticulate cries of joy and loveunspeakable. 

"NATURE!" said Christopher dogmatically, recognizing an oldacquaintance, and booking it as one more conquest gained over the past. But there was too much excitement over the cherub to attend to him. Sohe watched the woman gravely, and began to moralize with all his might. "This, " said he, "is what we used to call maternal love; and all animalshad it, and that is why the noble savage went for him. It was very goodof you, Miss Savage, " said the poor soul sententiously. 

"Good of her!" cried Phoebe. "She is all goodness. Savage, find me aDutchwoman like her! I'll give her a good cuddle for it;" and she tookthe Kafir round the neck, and gave her a hearty kiss, and made thelittle boy kiss her too. 

At this moment out came a collie dog, hunting Ucatella by scent alone, which process landed him headlong in the group; he gave loud barks ofrecognition, fawned on Phoebe and Dick, smelt poor Christopher, gavea growl of suspicion, and lurked about squinting, dissatisfied, andlowering his tail. 

"Thou art wrong, lad, for once, " said Dick; "for he's an old friend, anda good one. "

"After the dog, perhaps some Christian will come to welcome us, " saidpoor Phoebe. 

Obedient to the wish, out walked Sophy, the English nurse, a scraggywoman, with a very cocked nose and thin, pinched lips, and an air ofrespectability and pertness mingled. She dropped a short courtesy, shotthe glance of a basilisk at Ucatella, and said stiffly, "You are welcomehome, ma'am. " Then she took the little boy as one having authority. Not that Phoebe would have surrendered him; but just then Mr. Falconstrolled out, with a cigar in his mouth, and Phoebe, with her heart inHER mouth, flew to meet him. There was a rapturous conjugal embrace, followed by mutual inquiries; and the wagon drew up at the door. Then, for the first time, Falcon observed Staines, saw at once he was agentleman, and touched his hat to him, to which Christopher responded inkind, and remembered he had done so in the locked-up past. 

Phoebe instantly drew her husband apart by the sleeve. "Who do you thinkthat is? You'll never guess. 'Tis the great doctor that saved Dick'slife in England with cutting of his throat. But, oh, my dear, he is notthe man he was. He is afflicted. Out of his mind partly. Well, we mustcure him, and square the account for Dick. I'm a proud woman at findinghim, and bringing him here to make him all right again, I can tell you. Oh, I am happy, I am happy. Little did I think to be so happy as I am. And, my dear, I have brought you a whole sackful of newspapers, old andnew. "

"That is a good girl. But tell me a little more about him. What is hisname?"

"Christie. "

"Dr. Christie?"

"No doubt. He wasn't an apothecary, or a chemist, you may be sure, buta high doctor, and the cleverest ever was or ever will be: and isn't itsad, love, to see him brought down so? My heart yearns for the poorman: and then his wife--the sweetest, loveliest creature you ever--oh!"Phoebe stopped very short, for she remembered something all of a sudden;nor did she ever again give Falcon a chance of knowing that the woman, whose presence had so disturbed him, was this very Dr. Christie's wife. "Curious!" thought she to herself, "the world to be so large, and yet sosmall:" then aloud, "They are unpacking the wagon; come, dear. I don'tthink I have forgotten anything of yours. There's cigars, andtobacco, and powder, and shot, and bullets, and everything to make youcomfortable, as my duty 'tis; and--oh, but I'm a happy woman. "

Hottentots, big and little, clustered about the wagon. Treasure aftertreasure was delivered with cries of delight; the dogs found out it wasa joyful time, and barked about the wheeled treasury; and the place didnot quiet down till sunset. 

A plain but tidy little room was given to Christopher, and he sleptthere like a top. Next morning his nurse called him up to help her waterthe grass. She led the way with a tub on her head and two buckets in it. She took him to the dam; when she got there she took out the buckets, left one on the bank, and gave the other to Christie. She then went downthe steps till the water was up to her neck, and bade Christie fill thetub. He poured eight bucketsful in. Then she came slowly out, straightas an arrow, balancing this tub full on her head. Then she held out herhands for the two buckets. Christie filled them, wondering, and gavethem to her. She took them like toy buckets, and glided slowly home withthis enormous weight, and never spilled a drop. Indeed, the walk wasmore smooth and noble than ever, if possible. 

When she reached the house, she hailed a Hottentot, and it cost theman and Christopher a great effort of strength to lower her tub betweenthem. 

"What a vertebral column you must have!" said Christopher. 

"You must not speak bad words, my child, " said she. "Now, you water thegrass and the flowers. " She gave him a watering-pot, and watched himmaternally; but did not put a hand to it. She evidently considered thispart of the business as child's play, and not a fit exercise of herpowers. 

It was only by drowning that little oasis twice a day that the grass waskept green and the flowers alive. 

She found him other jobs in course of the day, and indeed he was alwayshelping somebody or other, and became quite ruddy, bronzed, and plump ofcheek, and wore a strange look of happiness, except at times when hegot apart, and tried to recall the distant past. Then he would knit hisbrow, and looked perplexed and sad. 

They were getting quite used to him, and he to them, when one day he didnot come in to dinner. Phoebe sent out for him; but they could not findhim. 

The sun set. Phoebe became greatly alarmed, and even Dick was anxious. 

They all turned out, with guns and dogs, and hunted for him beneath thestars. 

Just before daybreak Dick Dale saw a fire sparkle by the side of adistant thicket. He went to it, and there was Ucatella seated, calm andgrand as antique statue, and Christopher lying by her side, with a shawlthrown over him. As Dale came hurriedly up, she put her finger to herlips, and said, "My child sleeps. Do not wake him. When he sleeps, hehunts the past, as Collie hunts the springbok. "

"Here's a go, " said Dick. Then, hearing a chuckle, he looked up, and wasaware of a comical appendage to the scene. There hung, head downwards, from a branch, a Kafir boy, who was, in fact, the brother of the statelyUcatella, only went further into antiquity for his models of deportment;for, as she imitated the antique marbles, he reproduced the habits ofthat epoch when man roosted, and was arboreal. Wheel somersaults, and, above all, swinging head downwards from a branch, were the sweeteners ofhis existence. 

"Oh! YOU are there, are you?" said Dick. 

"Iss, " said Ucatella. "Tim good boy. Tim found my child. "

"Well, " said Dick, "he has chosen a nice place. This is the clump thelast lion came out of, at least they say so. For my part, I never sawan African lion; Falcon says they've all took ship, and gone to England. However, I shall stay here with my rifle till daybreak. 'Tis temptingProvidence to lie down on the skirt of a wood for Lord knows what tojump out on ye unawares. "

Tim was sent home for Hottentots, and Christopher was carried home, still sleeping, and laid on his own bed. 

He slept twenty-four hours more, and, when he was fairly awake, a sortof mist seemed to clear away in places, and he remembered things atrandom. He remembered being at sea on the raft with the dead body;that picture was quite vivid to him. He remembered, too, being in thehospital, and meeting Phoebe, and every succeeding incident; but asrespected the more distant past, he could not recall it by any effortof his will. His mind could only go into that remoter past by materialstepping-stones; and what stepping-stones he had about him here led himback to general knowledge, but not to his private history. 

In this condition he puzzled them all strangely at the farm; his mindwas alternately so clear and so obscure. He would chat with Phoebe, andsometimes give her a good practical hint; but the next moment, helplessfor want of memory, that great faculty without which judgment cannotact, having no material. 

After some days of this, he had another great sleep. It brought him backthe distant past in chapters. His wedding-day. His wife's face and dressupon that day. His parting with her: his whole voyage out: but, strangeto say, it swept away one-half of that which he had recovered at hislast sleep, and he no longer remembered clearly how he came to be atDale's Kloof. 

Thus his mind might be compared to one climbing a slippery place, whogains a foot or two, then slips back; but on the whole gains more thanhe loses. 

He took a great liking to Falcon. That gentleman had the art ofpleasing, and the tact never to offend. 

Falcon affected to treat the poor soul's want of memory as a commoninfirmity; pretended he was himself very often troubled in the same way, and advised him to read the newspapers. "My good wife, " said he, "hasbrought me a whole file of the Cape Gazette. I'd read them if I was you. The deuce is in it, if you don't rake up something or other. "

Christopher thanked him warmly for this: he got the papers to his ownlittle room, and had always one or two in his pocket for reading. Atfirst he found a good many hard words that puzzled him; and he borroweda pencil of Phoebe, and noted them down. Strange to say, the words thatpuzzled him were always common words, that his unaccountable memory hadforgotten: a hard word, he was sure to remember that. 

One day he had to ask Falcon the meaning of "spendthrift. " Falcon toldhim briefly. He could have illustrated the word by a striking example;but he did not. He added, in his polite way, "No fellow can understandall the words in a newspaper. Now, here's a word in mine--'Anemometer;'who the deuce can understand such a word?"

"Oh, THAT is a common word enough, " said poor Christopher. "It means amachine for measuring the force of the wind. "

"Oh, indeed, " said Falcon; but did not believe a word of it. 

One sultry day Christopher had a violent headache, and complainedto Ucatella. She told Phoebe, and they bound his brows with a wethandkerchief, and advised him to keep in-doors. He sat down in thecoolest part of the house, and held his head with his hands, for itseemed as if it would explode into two great fragments. 

All in a moment the sky was overcast with angry clouds, whirling thisway and that. Huge drops of hail pattered down, and the next minute camea tremendous flash of lightning, accompanied, rather than followed, by acrash of thunder close over their heads. 

This was the opening. Down came a deluge out of clouds that lookedmountains of pitch, and made the day night but for the fast and furiousstrokes of lightning that fired the air. The scream of wind and awfulpeals of thunder completed the horrors of the scene. 

In the midst of this, by what agency I know no more than science ora sheep does, something went off inside Christopher's head, like apistol-shot. He gave a sort of scream, and dashed out into the weather. 

Phoebe heard his scream and his flying footstep, and uttered anejaculation of fear. The whole household was alarmed, and, under othercircumstances, would have followed him; but you could not see ten yards. 

A chill sense of impending misfortune settled on the house. Phoebe threwher apron over her head, and rocked in her chair. 

Dick himself looked very grave. 

Ucatella would have tried to follow him; but Dick forbade her. "'Tis nouse, " said he. "When it clears, we that be men will go for him. "

"Pray Heaven you may find him alive!"

"I don't think but what we shall. There's nowhere he can fall down tohurt himself, nor yet drown himself, but our dam; and he has not gonethat way. But"--

"But what?"

"If we do find him, we must take him back to Cape Town, before he doeshimself, or some one, a mischief. Why, Phoebe, don't you see the man hasgone raving mad?"

CHAPTER XIX. 

The electrified man rushed out into the storm, but he scarcely feltit in his body; the effect on his mind overpowered hail-stones. Thelightning seemed to light up the past; the mighty explosions of thunderseemed cannon strokes knocking down a wall, and letting in his wholelife. 

Six hours the storm raged, and, before it ended, he had recovered nearlyhis whole past, except his voyage with Captain Dodd--that, indeed, henever recovered--and the things that happened to him in the hospitalbefore he met Phoebe Falcon and her brother: and as soon as he hadrecovered his lost memory, his body began to shiver at the hail andrain. He tried to find his way home, but missed it; not so much, however, but that he recovered it as soon as it began to clear, andjust as they were coming out to look for him, he appeared before them, dripping, shivering, very pale and worn, with the handkerchief stillabout his head. 

At sight of him, Dick slipped back to his sister, and said, ratherroughly, "There now, you may leave off crying: he is come home; andto-morrow I take him to Cape Town. "

Christopher crept in, a dismal, sinister figure. 

"Oh, sir, " said Phoebe, "was this a day for a Christian to be out in?How could you go and frighten us so?"

"Forgive me, madam, " said Christopher humbly; "I was not myself. "

"The best thing you can do now is to go to bed, and let us send you upsomething warm. "

"You are very good, " said Christopher, and retired with the air of onetoo full of great amazing thoughts to gossip. 

He slept thirty hours at a stretch, and then, awaking in the dead ofnight, he saw the past even more clear and vivid; he lighted his candleand began to grope in the Cape Gazette. As to dates, he now rememberedwhen he had sailed from England, and also from Madeira. Following upthis clew, he found in the Gazette a notice that H. M. Ship Amphitritehad been spoken off the Cape, and had reported the melancholy loss of apromising physician and man of science, Dr. Staines. 

The account said every exertion had been made to save him, but in vain. 

Staines ground his teeth with rage at this. "Every exertion! thefalse-hearted curs. They left me to drown, without one manly effort tosave me. Curse them, and curse all the world. "

Pursuing his researches rapidly, he found a much longer account of araft picked up by Captain Dodd, with a white man on it and a dead body, the white man having on him a considerable sum in money and jewels. 

Then a new anxiety chilled him. There was not a word to identify himwith Dr. Staines. The idea had never occurred to the editor of the CapeGazette. Still less would it occur to any one in England. At this momenthis wife must be mourning for him. "Poor--poor Rosa!"

But perhaps the fatal news might not have reached her. 

That hope was dashed away as soon as found. Why, these were all OLDNEWSPAPERS. That gentlemanly man who had lent them to him had said so. 

Old! yet they completed the year 1867. 

He now tore through them for the dates alone, and soon found they wentto 1868. Yet they were old papers. He had sailed in May, 1867. 

"My God!" he cried, in agony, "I HAVE LOST A YEAR. "

This thought crushed him. By and by he began to carry this awful ideainto details. "My Rosa has worn mourning for me, and put it off again. Iam dead to her, and to all the world. "

He wept long and bitterly. 

Those tears cleared his brain still more. For all that, he was not yethimself; at least, I doubt it; his insanity, driven from the intellect, fastened one lingering claw into his moral nature, and hung on by it. His soul filled with bitterness and a desire to be revenged on mankindfor their injustice, and this thought possessed him more than reason. 

He joined the family at breakfast; and never a word all the time. Butwhen he got up to go, he said, in a strange, dogged way, as if it wentagainst the grain, "God bless the house that succors the afflicted. "Then he went out to brood alone. 

"Dick, " said Phoebe, "there's a change. I'll never part with him: andlook, there's Collie following him, that never could abide him. "

"Part with him?" said Reginald. "Of course not. He is a gentleman, andthey are not so common in Africa. "

Dick, who hated Falcon, ignored this speech entirely, and said, "Well, Pheeb, you and Collie are wiser than I am. Take your own way, and don'tblame me if anything happens. "

Soon Christopher paid the penalty of returning reason. He suffered allthe poignant agony a great heart can endure. 

So this was his reward for his great act of self-denial in leaving hisbeloved wife. He had lost his patient; he had lost the income from thatpatient; his wife was worse off than before, and had doubtless sufferedthe anguish of a loving heart bereaved. His mind, which now seemed morevigorous than ever, after its long rest, placed her before his veryeyes, pale, and worn with grief, in her widow's cap. 

At the picture, he cried like the rain. He could give her joy, bywriting; but he could not prevent her from suffering a whole year ofmisery. 

Turning this over in connection with their poverty, his evil geniuswhispered, "By this time she has received the six thousand pounds foryour death. SHE would never think of that; but her father has: and thereis her comfort assured, in spite of the caitiffs who left her husband todrown like a dog. 

"I know my Rosa, " he thought. "She has swooned--ah, my poor darling--shehas raved--she has wept, " he wept himself at the thought--"she hasmourned every indiscreet act, as if it was a crime. But she HAS doneall this. Her good and loving but shallow nature is now at rest from theagonies of bereavement, and nought remains but sad and tender regrets. She can better endure that than poverty: cursed poverty, which hasbrought her and me to this, and is the only real evil in the world, butbodily pain. "

Then came a struggle, that lasted a whole week, and knitted his brows, and took the color from his cheek; but it ended in the triumph of loveand hate, over conscience and common sense. His Rosa should not be poor;and he would cheat some of those contemptible creatures called men, whohad done him nothing but injustice, and at last had sacrificed his lifelike a rat's. 

When the struggle was over, and the fatal resolution taken, then hebecame calmer, less solitary, and more sociable. 

Phoebe, who was secretly watching him with a woman's eye, observed thischange in him, and, with benevolent intentions, invited him one day toride round the farm with her. He consented readily. She showed him thefields devoted to maize and wheat, and then the sheepfolds. Tim's sheepwere apparently deserted; but he was discovered swinging head downwardsfrom the branch of a camel-thorn, and seeing him, it did strike one thatif he had had a tail he would have been swinging by that. Phoebe calledto him: he never answered, but set off running to her, and landedhimself under her nose in a wheel somersault. 

"I hope you are watching them, Tim, " said his mistress. 

"Iss, missy, always washing 'em. "

"Why, there's one straying towards the wood now. "

"He not go far, " said Tim coolly. The young monkey stole off a littleway, then fell flat, and uttered the cry of a jackal, with startlingprecision. Back went the sheep to his comrades post haste, and Timeffected a somersault and a chuckle. 

"You are a clever boy, " said Phoebe. "So that is how you manage them. "

"Dat one way, missy, " said Tim, not caring to reveal all his resourcesat once. 

Then Phoebe rode on, and showed Christopher the ostrich pan. It wasa large basin, a form the soil often takes in these parts; and in itstrutted several full-grown ostriches and their young, bred on thepremises. There was a little dam of water, and plenty of food about. They were herded by a Kafir infant of about six, black, glossy, fat, andclean, being in the water six times a day. 

Sometimes one of the older birds would show an inclination to stray outof the pan. Then the infant rolled after her, and tapped her ankles witha wand. She instantly came back, but without any loss of dignity, forshe strutted with her nose in the air, affecting completely to ignorethe inferior little animal, that was nevertheless controlling hermovements. "There's a farce, " said Phoebe. "But you would not believethe money they cost me, nor the money they bring me in. Grain will notsell here for a quarter its value: and we can't afford to send it toCape Town, twenty days and back; but finery, that sells everywhere. Igather sixty pounds the year off those poor fowls' backs--clear profit. "

She showed him the granary, and told him there wasn't such another inAfrica. This farm had belonged to one of the old Dutch settlers, andthat breed had been going down this many a year. "You see, sir, Dickand I being English, and not downright in want of money, we can't bringourselves to sell grain to the middlemen for nothing, so we store it, hoping for better times, that maybe will never come. Now I'll show youhow the dam is made. "

They inspected the dam all round. "This is our best friend of all, " saidshe. "Without this the sun would turn us all to tinder, --crops, flowers, beasts, and folk. "

"Oh, indeed, " said Staines. "Then it is a pity you have not built itmore scientifically. I must have a look at this. "

"Ay do, sir, and advise us if you see anything wrong. But hark! it ismilking time. Come and see that. " So she led the way to some sheds, andthere they found several cows being milked, each by a little calf and alittle Hottentot at the same time, and both fighting and jostling eachother for the udder. Now and then a young cow, unused to incongruoustwins, would kick impatiently at both animals and scatter them. 

"That is their way, " said Phoebe: "they have got it into their sillyHottentot heads as kye won't yield their milk if the calf is taken away;and it is no use arguing with 'em; they will have their own way; butthey are very trusty and honest, poor things. We soon found that out. When we came here first it was in a hired wagon, and Hottentot drivers:so when we came to settle I made ready for a bit of a wrangle. But mymaid Sophy, that is nurse now, and a great despiser of heathens, shesays, 'Don't you trouble; them nasty ignorant blacks never charges morethan their due. ' 'I forgive 'em, ' says I; 'I wish all white folk was asnice. ' However, I did give them a trifle over, for luck: and then theygot together and chattered something near the door, hand in hand. 'La, Sophy, ' says I, 'what is up now?' Says she, 'They are blessing of us. Things is come to a pretty pass, for ignorant Muslinmen heathen to beblessing Christian folk. ' 'Well, ' says I, 'it won't hurt us any. ' 'Idon't know, ' says she. 'I don't want the devil prayed over me. ' So shecocked that long nose of hers and followed it in a doors. "

By this time they were near the house, and Phoebe was obliged to come toher postscript, for the sake of which, believe me, she had utteredevery syllable of this varied chat. "Well, sir, " said she, affecting toproceed without any considerable change of topic, "and how do you findyourself? Have you discovered the past?"

"I have, madam. I remember every leading incident of my life. "

"And has it made you happier?" said Phoebe softly. 

"No, " said Christopher gravely. "Memory has brought me misery. "

"I feared as much; for you have lost your fine color, and your eyes arehollow, and lines on your poor brow that were not there before. Are younot sorry you have discovered the past?"

"No, Mrs. Falcon. Give me the sovereign gift of reason, with all thetorture it can inflict. I thank God for returning memory, even with themisery it brings. "

Phoebe was silent a long time: then she said in a low, gentle voice, and with the indirectness of a truly feminine nature, "I have plenty ofwriting-paper in the house; and the post goes south to-morrow, such as'tis. "

Christopher struggled with his misery, and trembled. 

He was silent a long time. Then he said, "No. It is her interest that Ishould be dead. "

"Well, but, sir--take a thought. "

"Not a word more, I implore you. I am the most miserable man that everbreathed. " As he spoke, two bitter tears forced their way. 

Phoebe cast a look of pity on him, and said no more; but she shook herhead. Her plain common sense revolted. 

However, it did not follow he would be in the same mind next week: soshe was in excellent spirits at her protege's recovery, and very proudof her cure, and celebrated the event with a roaring supper, includingan English ham, and a bottle of port wine; and, ten to one, that wasEnglish too. 

Dick Dale looked a little incredulous, but he did not spare the ham anythe more for that. 

After supper, in a pause of conversation, Staines turned to Dick, andsaid, rather abruptly, "Suppose that dam of yours were to burst andempty its contents, would it not be a great misfortune to you?"

"Misfortune, sir! Don't talk of it. Why, it would ruin us, beast andbody. "

"Well, it will burst, if it is not looked to. "

"Dale's Kloof dam burst! the biggest and strongest for a hundred milesround. "

"You deceive yourself. It is not scientifically built, to begin, andthere is a cause at work that will infallibly burst it, if not looked toin time. "

"And what is that, sir?"

"The dam is full of crabs. "

"So 'tis; but what of them?"

"I detected two of them that had perforated the dyke from the wet sideto the dry, and water was trickling through the channel they had made. Now, for me to catch two that had come right through, there must be agreat many at work honeycombing your dyke; those channels, once made, will be enlarged by the permeating water, and a mere cupful of waterforced into a dyke by the great pressure of a heavy column has anexpansive power quite out of proportion to the quantity forced in. Colossal dykes have been burst in this way with disastrous effects. Indeed, it is only a question of time, and I would not guarantee yourdyke twelve hours. It is full, too, with the heavy rains. "

"Here's a go!" said Dick, turning pale. "Well, if it is to burst, itmust. "

"Why so? You can make it safe in a few hours. You have got a clumsycontrivance for letting off the excess of water: let us go and relievethe dam at once of two feet of water. That will make it safe for a dayor two, and to-morrow we will puddle it afresh, and demolish those busyexcavators. "

He spoke with such authority and earnestness, that they all got up fromtable; a horn was blown that soon brought the Hottentots, and they allproceeded to the dam. With infinite difficulty they opened the wastesluice, lowered the water two feet, and so drenched the arid soil thatin forty-eight hours flowers unknown sprang up. 

Next morning, under the doctor's orders, all the black men and boys werediving with lumps of stiff clay and puddling the endangered wall with athick wall of it. This took all the people the whole day. 

Next day the clay wall was carried two feet higher, and then the doctormade them work on the other side and buttress the dyke with supports soenormous as seemed extravagant to Dick and Phoebe; but, after all, itwas as well to be on the safe side, they thought: and soon they weresure of it, for the whole work was hardly finished when the news came inthat the dyke of a neighboring Boer, ten miles off, had exploded like acannon, and emptied itself in five minutes, drowning the farm-yard andfloating the furniture, but leaving them all to perish of drought; andindeed the Boer's cart came every day, with empty barrels, for sometime, to beg water of the Dales. Ucatella pondered all this, and saidher doctor child was wise. 

This brief excitement over, Staines went back to his own gloomythoughts, and they scarcely saw him, except at supper-time. 

One evening he surprised them all by asking if they would add to alltheir kindness by lending him a horse, and a spade, and a few pounds togo to the diamond fields. 

Dick Dale looked at his sister. She said, "We had rather lend them youto go home with, sir, if you must leave us; but, dear heart, I was halfin hopes--Dick and I were talking it over only yesterday--that you wouldgo partners like with us; ever since you saved the dam. "

"I have too little to offer for that, Mrs. Falcon; and, besides, I amdriven into a corner. I must make money quickly, or not at all: thediamonds are only three hundred miles off: for heaven's sake, let me trymy luck. "

They tried to dissuade him, and told him not one in fifty did any goodat it. 

"Ay, but I shall, " said he. "Great bad luck is followed by great goodluck, and I feel my turn is come. Not that I rely on luck. An accidentdirected my attention to the diamond a few years ago, and I read anumber of prime works upon the subject that told me of things notknown to the miners. It is clear, from the Cape journals, that theyare looking for diamonds in the river only. Now, I am sure that is amistake. Diamonds, like gold, have their matrix, and it is comparativelyfew gems that get washed into the river. I am confident that I shallfind the volcanic matrix, and perhaps make my fortune in a week or two. "

When the dialogue took this turn, Reginald Falcon's cheek began toflush, and his eyes to glitter. 

Christopher continued: "You who have befriended me so will not turnback, I am sure, when I have such a chance before me; and as for thesmall sum of money I shall require, I will repay you some day, evenif"--

"La, sir, don't talk so. If you put it that way, why, the best horse wehave, and fifty pounds in good English gold, they are at your serviceto-morrow. "

"And pick and spade to boot, " said Dick, "and a double rifle, for thereare lions, and Lord knows what, between this and the Vaal river. "

"God bless you both!" said Christopher. "I will start to-morrow. "

"And I'll go with you, " said Reginald Falcon. 

CHAPTER XX. 

"Heaven forbid!" said Phoebe. "No, my dear, no more diamonds for us. Wenever had but one, and it brought us trouble. "

"Nonsense, Phoebe, " replied Falcon; "it was not the diamond's fault. You know I have often wanted to go there, but you objected. You said youwere afraid some evil would befall me. But now Solomon himself is goingto the mines, let us have no more of that nonsense. We will take ourrifles and our pistols. "

"There--there--rifles and pistols, " cried Phoebe; "that shows. "

"And we will be there in a week; stay a month, and home with our pocketsfull of diamonds. "

"And find me dead of a broken heart. "

"Broken fiddlestick! We have been parted longer than that, and yet herewe are all right. "

"Ay, but the pitcher that goes too often to the well gets broke at last. No, Reginald, now I have tasted three years' happiness and peace ofmind, I cannot go through what I used in England. Oh, doctor! have youthe heart to part man and wife, that have never been a day from eachother all these years?"

"Mrs. Falcon, I would not do it for all the diamonds in Brazil. No, Mr. Falcon, I need hardly say how charmed I should be to have your company:but that is a pleasure I shall certainly deny myself, after what yourgood wife has said. I owe her too much to cause her a single pang. "

"Doctor, " said the charming Reginald, "you are a gentleman and side withthe lady. Quite right. It adds to my esteem, if possible. Make yourmind easy; I will go alone. I am not a farmer. I am dead sick of thismonotonous life; and, since I am compelled to speak my mind, a littleashamed, as a gentleman, of living on my wife and her brother, and doingnothing for myself. So I shall go to the Vaal river, and see a littlelife; here there's nothing but vegetation--and not much of that. Nota word more, Phoebe, if you please. I am a good, easy, affectionatehusband, but I am a man, and not a child to be tied to a woman'sapron-strings, however much I may love and respect her. "

Dick put in his word: "Since you are so independent, you can WALK to theVaal river. I can't spare a couple of horses. "

This hit the sybarite hard, and he cast a bitter glance of hatred at hisbrother-in-law, and fell into a moody silence. 

But when he got Phoebe to himself, he descanted on her selfishness, Dick's rudeness, and his own wounded dignity, till he made her quiteanxious he should have his own way. She came to Staines, with red eyes, and said, "Tell me, doctor, will there be any women up there--to takecare of you?"

"Not a petticoat in the place, I believe. It is a very rough life; andhow Falcon could think of leaving you and sweet little Tommy, and thislife of health, and peace, and comfort--"

"Yet YOU do leave us, sir. "

"I am the most unfortunate man upon the earth; Falcon is one of thehappiest. Would I leave wife and child to go there? Ah me! I am dead tothose I love. This is my one chance of seeing my darling again for manya long year perhaps. Oh, I must not speak of HER--it unmans me. My good, kind friend, I'll tell you what to do. When we are all at supper, leta horse be saddled and left in the yard for me. I'll bid you allgood-night, and I'll put fifty miles between us before morning. Eventhen HE need not be told I am gone; he will not follow me. "

"You are very good, sir, " said Phoebe; "but no. Too much has beensaid. I can't have him humbled by my brother, nor any one. He says Iam selfish. Perhaps I am; though I never was called so. I can't bearhe should think me selfish. He WILL go, and so let us have no ill bloodabout it. Since he is to go, of course I'd much liever he should go withyou than by himself. You are sure there are no women up there--to takecare of--you--both? You must be purse-bearer, sir, and look to everypenny. He is too generous when he has got money to spend. "

In short, Reginald had played so upon her heart, that she now urged thejoint expedition, only she asked a delay of a day or two to equip them, and steel herself to the separation. 

Staines did not share those vague fears that overpowered the wife, whosebitter experiences were unknown to him; but he felt uncomfortable at hercondition--for now she was often in tears--and he said all he could tocomfort her; and he also advised her how to profit by these terriblediamonds, in her way. He pointed out to her that her farm lay rightin the road to the diamonds, yet the traffic all shunned her, passingtwenty miles to the westward. Said he, "You should profit by all yourresources. You have wood, a great rarity in Africa; order a portableforge; run up a building where miners can sleep, another where theycan feed; the grain you have so wisely refused to sell, grind it intoflour. "

"Dear heart! why, there's neither wind nor water to turn a mill. "

"But there are oxen. I'll show you how to make an ox-mill. Send yourCape cart into Cape Town for iron lathes, for coffee and tea, andgroceries by the hundredweight. The moment you are ready--for successdepends on the order in which we act--then prepare great boards, andplant them twenty miles south. Write or paint on them, very large, 'The nearest way to the Diamond Mines, through Dale's Kloof, where isexcellent accommodation for man and beast. Tea, coffee, home-made bread, fresh butter, etc. , etc. ' Do this, and you will soon leave off decryingdiamonds. This is the sure way to coin them. I myself take the doubtfulway; but I can't help it. I am a dead man, and swift good fortune willgive me life. You can afford to go the slower road and the surer. "

Then he drew her a model of an ox-mill, and of a miner's dormitory, thepartitions six feet six apart, so that these very partitions formedthe bedstead, the bed-sacking being hooked to the uprights. He drew hismodel for twenty bedrooms. 

The portable forge and the ox-mill pleased Dick Dale most, but thepartitioned bedsteads charmed Phoebe. She said, "Oh, doctor, how can oneman's head hold so many things? If there's a man on earth I can trust myhusband with, 'tis you. But if things go cross up there, promise me youwill come back at once and cast in your lot with us. We have got moneyand stock, and you have got headpiece; we might do very well together. Indeed, indeed we might. Promise me. Oh, do, please, promise me!"

"I promise you. "

And on this understanding, Staines and Falcon were equipped with rifles, pickaxe, shovels, waterproofs, and full saddle-bags, and started, withmany shakings of the hand, and many tears from Phoebe, for the diamondwashings. 

CHAPTER XXI. 

Phoebe's tears at parting made Staines feel uncomfortable, and he saidso. 

"Pooh, pooh!" said Falcon, "crying for nothing does a woman good. "

Christopher stared at him. 

Falcon's spirits rose as they proceeded. He was like a boy let loosefrom school. His fluency and charm of manner served, however, to cheer asingularly dreary journey. 

The travellers soon entered on a vast and forbidding region, thatwearied the eye; at their feet a dull, rusty carpet of dried grass andwild camomile, with pale-red sand peeping through the burnt and scantyherbage. On the low mounds, that looked like heaps of sifted ashes, struggled now and then into sickliness a ragged, twisted shrub. Therewere flowers too, but so sparse, that they sparkled vainly in thecolorless waste, which stretched to the horizon. The farmhouses weretwenty miles apart, and nine out of ten of them were new ones built bythe Boers since they degenerated into white savages: mere huts, withdomed kitchens behind them. In the dwelling-house the whole familypigged together, with raw flesh drying on the rafters, stinking skinsin a corner, parasitical vermin of all sorts blackening the floor, andparticularly a small, biting, and odoriferous tortoise, compared withwhich the insect a London washerwoman brings into your house in herbasket, is a stroke with a feather--and all this without the excuse ofpenury; for many of these were shepherd kings, sheared four thousandfleeces a year, and owned a hundred horses and horned cattle. 

These Boers are compelled, by unwritten law, to receive travellers andwater their cattle; but our travellers, after one or two experiences, ceased to trouble them; for, added to the dirt, the men were sullen, thewomen moody, silent, brainless; the whole reception churlish. Stainesdetected in them an uneasy consciousness that they had descended, inmore ways than one, from a civilized race; and the superior bearing of aEuropean seemed to remind them what they had been, and might have been, and were not; so, after an attempt or two, our adventurers avoided theBoers, and tried the Kafirs. They found the savages socially superior, though their moral character does not rank high. 

The Kafir cabins they entered were caves, lighted only by the door, butdeliciously cool, and quite clean; the floors of puddled clay or ants'nests, and very clean. On entering these cool retreats, the flies thathad tormented them shirked the cool grot, and buzzed off to the nearestfarm to batten on congenial foulness. On the fat, round, glossy babies, not a speck of dirt, whereas the little Boers were cakes thereof. TheKafir would meet them at the door, his clean black face all smiles andwelcome. The women and grown girls would fling a spotless handkerchiefover their shoulders in a moment, and display their snowy teeth, inunaffected joy at sight of an Englishman. 

At one of these huts, one evening, they met with something St. Paulranks above cleanliness even, viz. , Christianity. A neighboring lion hadjust eaten a Hottentot faute de mieux; and these good Kafirs wanted theEuropeans not to go on at night and be eaten for dessert. But they couldnot speak a word of English, and pantomimic expression exists in theoryalone. In vain the women held our travellers by the coat-tails, andpointed to a distant wood. In vain Kafir pere went on all-fours andgrowled sore. But at last a savage youth ran to the kitchen--for theynever cook in the house--and came back with a brand, and sketched, onthe wall of the hut, a lion with a mane down to the ground, and a saucereye, not loving. The creature's paw rested on a hat and coat and anotherfragment or two of a European. The rest was fore-shortened, or elseeaten. 

The picture completed, the females looked, approved, and raised a dismalhowl. 

"A lion on the road, " said Christopher gravely. 

Then the undaunted Falcon seized the charcoal, and drew an Englishman ina theatrical attitude, left foot well forward, firing a gun, and a lionrolling head over heels like a buck rabbit, and blood squirting out of ahole in his perforated carcass. 

The savages saw, and exulted. They were so off their guard as toconfound representation with fact; they danced round the white warrior, and launched him to victory. 

"Aha!" said Falcon, "I took the shine out of their lion, didn't I?"

"You did: and once there was a sculptor who showed a lion his marblegroup, a man trampling a lion, extracting his tongue, and so on; butreport says it DID NOT CONVINCE THE LION. "

"Why, no; a lion is not an ass. But, for your comfort, there ARE nolions in this part of the world. They are myths. There were lions inAfrica. But now they are all at the Zoo. And I wish I was there too. "

"In what character--of a discontented animal--with every blessing? Theywould not take you in; too common in England. Hallo! this is somethingnew. What lots of bushes! We should not have much chance with a lionhere. "

"There ARE no lions: it is not the Zoo, " said Falcon; but he spurred onfaster. 

The country, however, did not change its feature; bushes and littleacacias prevailed, and presently dark forms began to glide across atintervals. 

The travellers held their breath, and pushed on; but at last theirhorses flagged; so they thought it best to stop and light a fire andstand upon their guard. 

They did so, and Falcon sat with his rifle cocked, while Staines boiledcoffee, and they drank it, and after two hours' halt, pushed on; and atlast the bushes got more scattered, and they were on the dreary plainagain. Falcon drew the rein, with a sigh of relief, and they walkedtheir horses side by side. 

"Well, what has become of the lions?" said Falcon jauntily. He turned inhis saddle, and saw a large animal stealing behind them with its bellyto the very earth, and eyes hot coals; he uttered an eldrich screech, fired both barrels, with no more aim than a baby, and spurred away, yelling like a demon. The animal fled another way, in equal trepidationat those tongues of flame and loud reports, and Christopher's horsereared and plunged, and deposited him promptly on the sward; but he heldthe bridle, mounted again, and rode after his companion. A stern chaseis a long chase; and for that or some other reason he could never catchhim again till sunrise. Being caught, he ignored the lioness, with coolhauteur: he said he had ridden on to find comfortable quarters: andcraved thanks. 

This was literally the only incident worth recording that the companionsmet with in three hundred miles. 

On the sixth day out, towards afternoon, they found by inquiring theywere near the diamond washings, and the short route was pointed out byan exceptionally civil Boer. 

But Christopher's eye had lighted upon a sort of chain of knolls, orlittle round hills, devoid of vegetation, and he told Falcon he wouldlike to inspect these, before going farther. 

"Oh, " said the Boer, "they are not on my farm, thank goodness! they areon my cousin Bulteel's;" and he pointed to a large white house aboutfour miles distant, and quite off the road. Nevertheless, Stainesinsisted on going to it. But first they made up to one of these knolls, and examined it; it was about thirty feet high, and not a vestige ofherbage on it; the surface was composed of sand and of lumps of graylimestone very hard, diversified with lots of quartz, mica, and otherold formations. 

Staines got to the top of it with some difficulty, and examined thesurface all over. He came down again, and said, "All these littlehills mark hot volcanic action--why, they are like boilingearth-bubbles--which is the very thing, under certain conditions, toturn carbonate of lime into diamonds. Now here is plenty of limestoneunnaturally hard; and being in a diamond country, I can fancy no placemore likely to be the matrix than these earth-bubbles. Let us tether thehorses, and use our shovels. "

They did so; and found one or two common crystals, and some jasper, anda piece of chalcedony all in little bubbles, but no diamond. Falcon saidit was wasting time. 

Just then the proprietor, a gigantic, pasty colonist, came up, with hispipe, and stood calmly looking on. Staines came down, and made a sort ofapology. Bulteel smiled quietly, and asked what harm they could do him, raking that rubbish. "Rake it all avay, mine vriends, " said he: "veshall thank you moch. "

He then invited them languidly to his house. They went with him, andas he volunteered no more remarks, they questioned him, and learned hisfather had been a Hollander, and so had his vrow's. This accounted forthe size and comparative cleanliness of his place. It was stuccoed withthe lime of the country outside, and was four times as large as themiserable farmhouses of the degenerate Boers. For all this, the streetdoor opened on the principal room, and that room was kitchen and parlor, only very large and wholesome. "But, Lord, " as poor dear Pepys used toblurt out--"to see how some folk understand cleanliness!" The floor wasmade of powdered ants' nests, and smeared with fresh cow-dung every day. Yet these people were the cleanest Boers in the colony. 

The vrow met them, with a snow-white collar and cuffs of Hamburgh linen, and the brats had pasty faces round as pumpkins, but shone with soap. The vrow was also pasty-faced, but gentle, and welcomed them with asmile, languid, but unequivocal. 

The Hottentots took their horses, as a matter of course. Their guns wereput in a corner. A clean cloth was spread, and they saw they were to supand sleep there, though the words of invitation were never spoken. 

At supper, sun-dried flesh, cabbage, and a savory dish the travellersreturned to with gusto. Staines asked what it was: the vrow toldhim--locusts. They had stripped her garden, and filled her very rooms, and fallen in heaps under her walls; so she had pressed them, by themillion, into cakes, had salted them lightly, and stored them, and theywere excellent, baked. 

After supper, the accomplished Reginald, observing a wire guitar, tunedit with some difficulty, and so twanged it, and sang ditties to it, thatthe flabby giant's pasty face wore a look of dreamy content over hiseverlasting pipe; and in the morning, after a silent breakfast, he said, "Mine vriends, stay here a year or two, and rake in mine rubbish. Venyou are tired, here are springbok and antelopes, and you can shootmit your rifles, and ve vil cook them, and you shall zing us zongs ofVaderland. "

They thanked him heartily, and said they would stay a few days, at allevents. 

The placid Boer went a-farming; and the pair shouldered their pick andshovel, and worked on their heap all day, and found a number of prettystones, but no diamond. 

"Come, " said Falcon, "we must go to the river;" and Staines acquiesced. "I bow to experience, " said he. 

At the threshold they found two of the little Bulteels, playing withpieces of quartz, crystal, etc. , on the door-stone. One of these stonescaught Staines's eye directly. It sparkled in a different way from theothers: he examined it: it was the size of a white haricot bean, and oneside of it polished by friction. He looked at it, and looked, and sawthat it refracted the light. He felt convinced it was a diamond. 

"Give the boy a penny for it, " said the ingenious Falcon, on receivingthe information. 

"Oh!" said Staines. "Take advantage of a child?"

He borrowed it of the boy, and laid it on the table, after supper. "Sir, " said he, "this is what we were raking in your kopjes for, andcould not find it. It belongs to little Hans. Will you sell it us? Weare not experts, but we think it may be a diamond. We will risk tenpounds on it. "

"Ten pounds!" said the farmer. "Nay, we rob not travellers, minevriend. "

"But if it is a diamond, it is worth a hundred. See how it gains fire inthe dusk. "

In short, they forced the ten pounds on him, and next day went to workon another kopje. 

But the simple farmer's conscience smote him. It was a slack time; sohe sent four Hotteatots, with shovels, to help these friendly maniacs. These worked away gayly, and the white men set up a sorting table, andsorted the stuff, and hammered the nodules, and at last found a littlestone as big as a pea that refracted the light. Staines showed this tothe Hottentots, and their quick eyes discovered two more that day, onlysmaller. 

Next day, nothing but a splinter or two. 

Then Staines determined to dig deeper, contrary to the generalimpression. He gave his reason: "Diamonds don't fall from the sky. Theywork up from the ground; and clearly the heat must be greater fartherdown. "

Acting on this, they tried the next strata, but found it entirelybarren. After that, however, they came to a fresh layer of carbonate, and here, Falcon hammering a large lump of conglomerate, out leaped, allof a sudden, a diamond big as a nut, that ran along the earth, gleaminglike a star. It had polished angles and natural facets, and even anovice, with an eye in his head, could see it was a diamond of thepurest water. Staines and Falcon shouted with delight, and made theblacks a present on the spot. 

They showed the prize, at night, and begged the farmer to take todigging. There was ten times more money beneath his soil than on it. 

Not he. He was a farmer: did not believe in diamonds. Two daysafterwards, another great find. Seven small diamonds. 

Next day, a stone as large as a cob-nut, and with strange and beautifulstreaks. They carried it home to dinner, and set it on the table, andtold the family it was worth a thousand pounds. Bulteel scarcely lookedat it; but the vrow trembled and all the young folk glowered at it. 

In the middle of dinner, it exploded like a cracker, and went literallyinto diamond-dust. 

"Dere goes von tousand pounds, " said Bulteel, without moving a muscle. 

Falcon swore. But Staines showed fortitude. "It was laminated, " said he, "and exposure to the air was fatal. "

Owing to the invaluable assistance of the Hottentots, they had inless than a month collected four large stones of pure water, and awineglassful of small stones, when, one fine day, going to work calmlyafter breakfast, they found some tents pitched, and at least a scoreof dirty diggers, bearded like the pard, at work on the ground. Stainessent Falcon back to tell Bulteel, and suggest that he should at onceorder them off, or, better still, make terms with them. The phlegmaticBoer did neither. 

In twenty-four hours it was too late. The place was rushed. In otherwords, diggers swarmed to the spot, with no idea of law but digger'slaw. 

A thousand tents rose like mushrooms; and poor Bulteel stood smoking, and staring amazed, at his own door, and saw a veritable processionof wagons, Cape carts, and powdered travellers file past him to takepossession of his hillocks. Him, the proprietor, they simply ignored;they had a committee who were to deal with all obstructions, landlordsand tenants included. They themselves measured out Bulteel's farm intothirty-foot claims, and went to work with shovel and pick. They heldStaines's claim sacred--that was diggers' law; but they confined itstrictly to thirty feet square. 

Had the friends resisted, their brains would have been knocked out. However, they gained this, that dealers poured in, and the market notbeing yet glutted, the price was good. Staines sold a few of the smallstones for two hundred pounds. He showed one of the larger stones. Thedealer's eye glittered, but he offered only three hundred pounds, and this was so wide of the ascending scale, on which a stone of thatimportance is priced, that Staines reserved it for sale at Cape Town. 

Nevertheless, he afterwards doubted whether he had not better have takenit; for the multitude of diggers turned out such a prodigious number ofdiamonds at Bulteel's pan, that a sort of panic fell on the market. 

These dry diggings were a revelation to the world. Men began to thinkthe diamond perhaps was a commoner stone than any one had dreamed it tobe. 

As to the discovery of stones, Staines and Falcon lost nothing by beingconfined to a thirty-foot claim. Compelled to dig deeper, they got intoa rich strata, where they found garnets by the pint, and some smalldiamonds, and at last, one lucky day, their largest diamond. It weighedthirty-seven carats, and was a rich yellow. Now, when a diamond isclouded or off color, it is terribly depreciated; but a diamond witha positive color is called a fancy stone, and ranks with the pureststones. 

"I wish I had this in Cape Town, " said Staines. 

"Why, I'll take it to Cape Town, if you like, " said the changeableFalcon. 

"You will?" said Christopher, surprised. 

"Why not? I'm not much of a digger. I can serve our interest better byselling. I could get a thousand pounds for this at Cape Town. "

"We will talk of that quietly, " said Christopher. 

Now, the fact is, Falcon, as a digger, was not worth a pin. He could notsort. His eyes would not bear the blinding glare of a tropical sun uponlime and dazzling bits of mica, quartz, crystal, white topaz, etc. , inthe midst of which the true glint of the royal stone had to be caught ina moment. He could not sort, and he had not the heart to dig. The onlyway to make him earn his half was to turn him into the travelling andselling partner. 

Christopher was too generous to tell him this; but he acted on it, andsaid he thought his was an excellent proposal; indeed, he had bettertake all the diamonds they had got to Dale's Kloof first, and show themto his wife, for her consolation: "And perhaps, " said he, "in a matterof this importance, she will go to Cape Town with you, and try themarket there. "

"All right, " said Falcon. 

He sat and brooded over the matter a long time, and said, "Why make twobites of a cherry? They will only give us half the value at Cape Town;why not go by the steamer to England, before the London market isglutted, and all the world finds out that diamonds are as common asdirt?"

"Go to England! What! without your wife? I'll never be a party to that. Me part man and wife! If you knew my own story"--

"Why, who wants you?" said Reginald. "You don't understand. Phoebe isdying to visit England again; but she has got no excuse. If you like togive her one, she will be much obliged to you, I can tell you. "

"Oh, that is a very different matter. If Mrs. Falcon can leave herfarm--"

"Oh, that brute of a brother of hers is a very honest fellow, for thatmatter. She can trust the farm to him. Besides, it is only a month'svoyage by the mail steamer. "

This suggestion of Falcon's set Christopher's heart bounding, and hiseyes glistening. But he restrained himself, and said, "This takes me bysurprise; let me smoke a pipe over it. "

He not only did that, but he lay awake all night. 

The fact is that for some time past, Christopher had felt sharp twingesof conscience, and deep misgivings as to the course he had pursued inleaving his wife a single day in the dark. Complete convalescence hadcleared his moral sentiments, and perhaps, after all, the discoveryof the diamonds had co-operated; since now the insurance money was nolonger necessary to keep his wife from starving. 

"Ah!" said he; "faith is a great quality; and how I have lacked it!"

To do him justice, he knew his wife's excitable nature, and was notwithout fears of some disaster, should the news be communicated to herunskilfully. 

But this proposal of Falcon's made the way clearer. Mrs. Falcon, thoughnot a lady, had all a lady's delicacy, and all a woman's tact andtenderness. He knew no one in the world more fit to be trusted withthe delicate task of breaking to his Rosa that the grave, for once, wasbaffled, and her husband lived. He now became quite anxious for Falcon'sdeparture, and ardently hoped that worthy had not deceived himself as toMrs. Falcon's desire to visit England. 

In short, it was settled that Falcon should start for Dale's Kloof, taking with him the diamonds, believed to be worth altogether threethousand pounds at Cape Town, and nearly as much again in England, anda long letter to Mrs. Falcon, in which Staines revealed his true story, told her where to find his wife, or hear of her, viz. , at Kent Villa, Gravesend, and sketched an outline of instructions as to the way, andcunning degrees, by which the joyful news should be broken to her. Withthis he sent a long letter to be given to Rosa herself, but not till sheshould know all: and in this letter he enclosed the ruby ring she hadgiven him. That ring had never left his finger, by sea or land, insickness or health. 

The letter to Rosa was sealed. The two letters made quite a packet;for, in the letter to his beloved Rosa, he told her everything that hadbefallen him. It was a romance, and a picture of love; a letter to lifta loving woman to heaven, and almost reconcile her to all her bereavedheart had suffered. 

This letter, written with many tears from the heart that had sosuffered, and was now softened by good fortune and bounding with joy, Staines entrusted to Falcon, together with the other diamonds, and withmany warm shakings of the hand, started him on his way. 

"But mind, Falcon, " said Christopher, "I shall expect an answer fromMrs. Falcon in twenty days at farthest. I do not feel so sure as youdo that she wants to go to England; and, if not, I must write to UnclePhilip. Give me your solemn promise, old fellow, an answer in twentydays--if you have to send a Kafir on horseback. "

"I give you my honor, " said Falcon superbly. 

"Send it to me at Bulteel's Farm. "

"All right. 'Dr. Christie, Bulteel's Farm. '"

"Well--no. Why should I conceal my real name any longer from suchfriends as you and your wife? Christie is short for Christopher--that ISmy Christian name; but my surname is Staines. Write to 'Dr. Staines. '"

"Dr. Staines!"

"Yes. Did you ever hear of me?"

Falcon wore a strange look. "I almost think I have. Down at Gravesend, or somewhere. "

"That is curious. Yes, I married my Rosa there; poor thing! God blessher; God comfort her. She thinks me dead. "

His voice trembled, he grasped Falcon's cold hand till the latter wincedagain, and so they parted, and Falcon rode off muttering, "Dr. Staines!so then YOU are Dr. Staines. "

CHAPTER XXII. 

Rosa Staines had youth on her side, and it is an old saying that youthwill not be denied. Youth struggled with death for her, and won thebattle. 

But she came out of that terrible fight weak as a child. The sweet paleface, the widow's cap, the suit of deep black--it was long ere thesecame down from the sickroom. And when they did, oh, the dead blank!The weary, listless life! The days spent in sighs, and tears, anddesolation. Solitude! solitude! Her husband was gone, and a strangewoman played the mother to her child before her eyes. 

Uncle Philip was devotedly kind to her, and so was her father; but theycould do nothing for her. 

Months rolled on, and skinned the wound over. Months could not heal. Herboy became dearer and dearer, and it was from him came the first realdrops of comfort, however feeble. 

She used to read her lost one's diary every day, and worship, in deepsorrow, the mind she had scarcely respected until it was too late. Shesearched in his diary to find his will, and often she mourned that hehad written on it so few things she could obey. Her desire to obeythe dead, whom, living, she had often disobeyed, was really simple andtouching. She would mourn to her father that there were so few commandsto her in his diary. "But, " said she, "memory brings me back his will inmany things, and to obey is now the only sad comfort I have. "

It was in this spirit she now forced herself to keep accounts. No fearof her wearing stays now; no powder; no trimmings; no waste. 

After the usual delay, her father told her she should instruct asolicitor to apply to the insurance company for the six thousandpounds. She refused with a burst of agony. "The price of his life, " shescreamed. "Never! I'd live on bread and water sooner than touch thatvile money. "

Her father remonstrated gently. But she was immovable. "No. It would belike consenting to his death. "

Then Uncle Philip was sent for. 

He set her child on her knee; and gave her a pen. "Come, " said he, sternly, "be a woman, and do your duty to little Christie. "

She kissed the boy, cried, and did her duty meekly. But when the moneywas brought her, she flew to Uncle Philip, and said, "There! there!"and threw it all before him, and cried as if her heart would break. Hewaited patiently, and asked her what he was to do with all that: investit?

"Yes, yes; for my little Christie. "

"And pay you the interest quarterly. "

"Oh, no, no. Dribble us out a little as we want it. That is the way tobe truly kind to a simpleton. I hate that word. "

"And suppose I run off with it? Such confiding geese as you corrupt aman. "

"I shall never corrupt you. Crusty people are the soul of honor. "

"Crusty people!" cried Philip, affecting amazement. "What are they?"

She bit her lip and colored a little; but answered adroitly, "They arepeople that pretend not to have good hearts, but have the best in theworld; far better ones than your smooth ones: that's crusty people. "

"Very well, " said Philip; "and I'll tell you what simpletons are. Theyare little transparent-looking creatures that look shallow, but are asdeep as Old Nick, and make you love them in spite of your judgment. They are the most artful of their sex; for they always achieve its greatobject, to be loved--the very thing that clever women sometimes failin. "

"Well, and if we are not to be loved, why live at all--such uselessthings as I am?" said Rosa simply. 

So Philip took charge of her money, and agreed to help her save moneyfor her little Christopher. Poverty should never destroy him, as it hadhis father. 

As months rolled on, she crept out into public a little; but always onfoot, and a very little way from home. 

Youth and sober life gradually restored her strength, but not her color, nor her buoyancy. 

Yet she was perhaps more beautiful than ever; for a holy sorrowchastened and sublimed her features: it was now a sweet, angelic, pensive beauty, that interested every feeling person at a glance. 

She would visit no one; but a twelvemonth after her bereavement, shereceived a few chosen visitors. 

One day a young gentleman called, and sent up his card, "LordTadcaster, " with a note from Lady Cicely Treherne, full of kindlyfeeling. Uncle Philip had reconciled her to Lady Cicely; but they hadnever met. 

Mrs. Staines was much agitated at the very name of Lord Tadcaster; butshe would not have missed seeing him for the world. 

She received him with her beautiful eyes wide open, to drink in everylineament of one who had seen the last of her Christopher. 

Tadcaster was wonderfully improved: he had grown six inches out at sea, and though still short, was not diminutive; he was a small Apollo, amodel of symmetry, and had an engaging, girlish beauty, redeemed fromdownright effeminacy by a golden mustache like silk, and a tanned cheekthat became him wonderfully. 

He seemed dazzled at first by Mrs. Staines, but murmured that LadyCicely had told him to come, or he would not have ventured. 

"Who can be so welcome to me as you?" said she, and the tears came thickin her eyes directly. 

Soon, he hardly knew how, he found himself talking of Staines, andtelling her what a favorite he was, and all the clever things he haddone. 

The tears streamed down her cheeks, but she begged him to go on tellingher, and omit nothing. 

He complied heartily, and was even so moved by the telling of hisfriend's virtues, and her tears and sobs, that he mingled his tears withhers. She rewarded him by giving him her hand as she turned away hertearful face to indulge the fresh burst of grief his sympathy evoked. 

When he was leaving, she said, in her simple way, "Bless you"--"Comeagain, " she said: "you have done a poor widow good. "

Lord Tadcaster was so interested and charmed, he would gladly havecome back next day to see her; but he restrained that extravagance, andwaited a week. 

Then he visited her again. He had observed the villa was not richin flowers, and he took her down a magnificent bouquet, cut from hisfather's hot-houses. At sight of him, or at sight of it, or both, thecolor rose for once in her pale cheek, and her pensive face wore a sweetexpression of satisfaction. She took his flowers, and thanked him forthem, and for coming to see her. 

Soon they got on the only topic she cared for, and, in the course ofthis second conversation, he took her into his confidence, and told herhe owed everything to Dr. Staines. "I was on the wrong road altogether, and he put me right. To tell you the truth, I used to disobey him nowand then, while he was alive, and I was always the worse for it; now heis gone, I never disobey him. I have written down a lot of wise, kindthings he said to me, and I never go against any one of them. I call itmy book of oracles. Dear me, I might have brought it with me. "

"Oh, yes! why didn't you?" rather reproachfully. 

"I will bring it next time. "

"Pray do. "

Then she looked at him with her lovely swimming eyes, and said tenderly, "And so here is another that disobeyed him living, but obeys him dead. What will you think when I tell you that I, his wife, who now worshiphim when it is too late, often thwarted and vexed him when he wasalive?"

"No, no. He told me you were an angel, and I believe it. "

"An angel! a good-for-nothing, foolish woman, who sees everything toolate. "

"Nobody else should say so before me, " said the little gentlemangrandly. "I shall take HIS word before yours on this one subject. Ifever there was an angel, you are one; and oh, what would I give if Icould but say or do anything in the world to comfort you!"

"You can do nothing for ME, dear, but come and see me often, and talk tome as you do--on the one sad theme my broken heart has room for. "

This invitation delighted Lord Tadcaster, and the sweet word "dear, "from her lovely lips, entered his heart, and ran through all his veinslike some rapturous but dangerous elixir. He did not say to himself, "She is a widow with a child, feels old with grief, and looks on me as aboy who has been kind to her. " Such prudence and wariness were hardly tobe expected from his age. He had admired her at first sight, very nearlyloved her at their first interview, and now this sweet word opened aheavenly vista. The generous heart that beat in his small frame burnedto console her with a life-long devotion and all the sweet offices oflove. 

He ordered his yacht to Gravesend--for he had become a sailor--andthen he called on Mrs. Staines, and told her, with a sort of sheepishcunning, that now, as his yacht HAPPENED to be at Gravesend, he couldcome and see her very often. He watched her timidly, to see how shewould take that proposition. 

She said, with the utmost simplicity, "I'm very glad of it. "

Then he produced his oracles; and she devoured them. Such precepts toTadcaster as she could apply to her own case she instantly noted in hermemory, and they became her law from that moment. 

Then, in her simplicity, she said, "And I will show you some things, inhis own handwriting, that may be good for you; but I can't show youthe whole book: some of it is sacred from every eye but his wife's. Hiswife's? Ah me! his widow's. "

Then she pointed out passages in the diary that she thought might be forhis good; and he nestled to her side, and followed her white finger withloving eyes, and was in an elysium--which she would certainly have puta stop to at that time, had she divined it. But all wisdom does not comeat once to an unguarded woman. Rosa Staines was wiser about her husbandthan she had been, but she had plenty to learn. 

Lord Tadcaster anchored off Gravesend, and visited Mrs. Staines nearlyevery day. She received him with a pleasure that was not at all lively, but quite undisguised. He could not doubt his welcome; for once, when hecame, she said to the servant, "Not at home, " a plain proof she did notwish his visit to be cut short by any one else. 

And so these visits and devoted attentions of every kind went onunobserved by Lord Tadcaster's friends, because Rosa would never go out, even with him; but at last Mr. Lusignan saw plainly how this would end, unless he interfered. 

Well, he did not interfere; on the contrary, he was careful to avoidputting his daughter on her guard: he said to himself, "Lord Tadcasterdoes her good. I'm afraid she would not marry him, if he was to ask hernow; but in time she might. She likes him a great deal better than anyone else. "

As for Philip, he was abroad for his own health, somewhat impaired byhis long and faithful attendance on Rosa. 

So now Lord Tadcaster was in constant attendance on Rosa. She waslanguid, but gentle and kind; and, as mourners, like invalids, are aptto be egotistical, she saw nothing but that he was a comfort to her inher affliction. 

While matters were so, the Earl of Miltshire, who had long been sinking, died, and Tadcaster succeeded to his honors and estates. 

Rosa heard of it, and, thinking it was a great bereavement, wrote himone of those exquisite letters of condolence a lady alone can write. Hetook it to Lady Cicely, and showed it her. She highly approved it. 

He said, "The only thing--it makes me ashamed, I do not feel my poorfather's death more; but you know it has been so long expected. " Thenhe was silent a long time; and then he asked her if such a woman as thatwould not make him happy, if he could win her. 

It was on her ladyship's tongue to say, "She did not make her firsthappy;" but she forbore, and said coldly, that was maw than she couldsay. 

Tadcaster seemed disappointed by that, and by and by Cicely took herselfto task. She asked herself what were Tadcaster's chances in the lotteryof wives. The heavy army of scheming mothers, and the light cavalry ofartful daughters, rose before her cousinly and disinterested eyes, and she asked herself what chance poor little Tadcaster would haveof catching a true love, with a hundred female artists manoeuvring, wheeling, ambuscading, and charging upon his wealth and titles. Shereturned to the subject of her own accord, and told him she saw but oneobjection to such a match: the lady had a son by a man of rare merit andmisfortune. Could he, at his age, undertake to be a father to that son?"Othahwise, " said Lady Cicely, "mark my words, you will quall over thatpoor child; and you will have two to quall with, because I shall be onher side. "

Tadcaster declared to her that child should be quite the opposite of abone of contention. "I have thought of that, " said he, "and I mean to beso kind to that boy, I shall MAKE her love me for that. "

On these terms Lady Cicely gave her consent. 

Then he asked her should he write, or ask her in person. 

Lady Cicely reflected. "If you write, I think she will say no. "

"But if I go?"

"Then, it will depend on how you do it. Rosa Staines is a true mourner. Whatever you may think, I don't believe the idea of a second union hasever entered her head. But then she is very unselfish: and she likes youbetter than any one else, I dare say. I don't think your title or yourmoney will weigh with her now. But, if you show her your happinessdepends on it, she may, perhaps, cwy and sob at the very idea of it, and then, after all, say, 'Well, why not--if I can make the poor soulhappy?'"

So, on this advice, Tadcaster went down to Gravesend, and Lady Cicelyfelt a certain self-satisfaction; for, her well-meant interferencehaving lost Rosa one husband, she was pleased to think she had donesomething to give her another. 

Lord Tadcaster came to Rosa Staines; he found her seated with her headupon her white hand, thinking sadly of the past. 

At sight of him in deep mourning, she started, and said, "Oh!"

Then she said tenderly, "We are of one color now, " and gave him herhand. 

He sat down beside her, not knowing how to begin. 

"I am not Tadcaster now. I am Earl of Miltshire. "

"Ah, yes; I forgot, " said she indifferently. 

"This is my first visit to any one in that character. "

"Thank you. "

"It is an awfully important visit to me. I could not feel myselfindependent, and able to secure your comfort and little Christie's, without coming to the lady, the only lady I ever saw, that--oh, Mrs. Staines--Rosa--who could see you, as I have done--mingle his tearswith yours, as I have done, and not love you, and long to offer you hislove?"

"Love! to me, a broken-hearted woman, with nothing to live for but hismemory and his child. "

She looked at him with a sort of scared amazement. 

"His child shall be mine. His memory is almost as dear to me as to you. "

"Nonsense, child, nonsense!" said she, almost sternly. 

"Was he not my best friend? Should I have the health I enjoy, or even bealive, but for him? Oh, Mrs. Staines--Rosa, you will not live all yourlife unmarried; and who will love you as I do? You are my first and onlylove. My happiness depends on you. "

"Your happiness depend on me! Heaven forbid--a woman of my age, thatfeels so old, old, old. "

"You are not old; you are young, and sad, and beautiful, and myhappiness depends on you. " She began to tremble a little. Then hekneeled at her knees, and implored her, and his hot tears fell upon thehand she put out to stop him, while she turned her head away, and thetears began to run. 

Oh! never can the cold dissecting pen tell what rushes over the heartthat has loved and lost, when another true love first kneels andimplores for love, or pity, or anything the bereaved can give. 

CHAPTER XXIII. 

When Falcon went, luck seemed to desert their claim: day after day wentby without a find; and the discoveries on every side made this the moremortifying. 

By this time the diggers at Bulteel's pan were as miscellaneous as theaudience at Drury Lane Theatre, only mixed more closely; the galleryfolk and the stalls worked cheek by jowl. Here a gentleman with anaffected lisp, and close by an honest fellow, who could not deliver asentence without an oath, or some still more horrible expletive thatmeant nothing at all in reality, but served to make respectable fleshcreep: interspersed with these, Hottentots, Kafirs, and wild blue blacksgayly clad in an ostrich feather, a scarlet ribbon, and a Tower musketsold them by some good Christian for a modern rifle. 

On one side of Staines were two swells, who lay on their backs andtalked opera half the day, but seldom condescended to work withoutfinding a diamond of some sort. 

After a week's deplorable luck, his Kafir boy struck work on account ofa sore in his leg; the sore was due to a very common cause, the burningsand had got into a scratch, and festered. Staines, out of humanity, examined the sore; and proceeding to clean it, before bandaging, outpopped a diamond worth forty pounds, even in the depreciated market. Staines quietly pocketed it, and bandaged the leg. This made him suspecthis blacks had been cheating him on a large scale, and he borrowed HansBulteel to watch them, giving him a third, with which Master Hans wasmightily pleased. But they could only find small diamonds, and by thistime prodigious slices of luck were reported on every side. Kafirs andBoers that would not dig, but traversed large tracts of ground when thesun was shining, stumbled over diamonds. One Boer pointed to a wagonand eight oxen, and said that one lucky glance on the sand had given himthat lot: but day after day Staines returned home, covered with dust, and almost blinded, yet with little or nothing to show for it. 

One evening, complaining of his change of luck, Bulteel quietly proposedto him migration. "I am going, " said he resignedly: "and you can comewith me. "

"You leave your farm, sir? Why, they pay you ten shillings a claim, andthat must make a large return; the pan is fifteen acres. "

"Yes, mine vriend, " said the poor Hollander, "they pay; but deir moneyit cost too dear. Vere is mine peace? Dis farm is six tousand acres. If de cursed diamonds was farther off, den it vas vell. But dey are toonear. Once I could smoke in peace, and zleep. Now diamonds is come, andzleep and peace is fled. Dere is four tousand tents, and to each tent adawg; dat dawg bark at four tousand other dawgs all night, and dey barkat him and at each oder. Den de masters of de dawgs dey get angry, andfire four tousand pistole at de four tousand dawgs, and make my bedshake wid the trembling of mine vrow. My vamily is with diamondsinfected. Dey vill not vork. Dey takes long valks, and always looks onde ground. Mine childre shall be hump-backed, round-shouldered, lookingdown for diamonds. Dey shall forget Gott. He is on high: dere eyes arealways on de earth. De diggers found a diamond in mine plaster of minewall of mine house. Dat plaster vas limestone; it come from dose kopjesde good Gott made in His anger against man for his vickedness. I zay so. Dey not believe me. Dey tink dem abominable stones grow in mine house, and break out in mine plaster like de measle: dey vaunt to dig in minewall, in mine garden, in mine floor. One day dey shall dig in mine body. I vill go. Better I love peace dan money. Here is English company makeme offer for mine varm. Dey forgive de diamonds. "

"You have not accepted it?" cried Staines in alarm. 

"No, but I vill. I have said I shall tink of it. Dat is my vay. So I sayyah. "

"An English company? They will cheat you without mercy. No, they shallnot, though, for I will have a hand in the bargain. "

He set to work directly, added up the value of the claims, at tenshillings per month, and amazed the poor Hollander by his statement ofthe value of those fifteen acres, capitalized. 

And to close this part of the subject, the obnoxious diamonds obtainedhim three times as much as his father had given for the whole sixthousand acres. 

The company got a great bargain, but Bulteel received what for him was alarge capital, and settling far to the south, this lineal descendant ofle philosophe sans savoir carried his godliness, his cleanliness, andhis love of peace, out of the turmoil, and was happier than ever, sincenow he could compare his placid existence with one year of noise andclamor. 

But long before this, events more pertinent to my story had occurred. 

One day, a Hottentot came into Bulteel's farm and went out among thediggers, till he found Staines. The Hottentot was one employed at Dale'sKloof, and knew him. He brought Staines a letter. 

Staines opened the letter, and another letter fell out; it was directedto "Reginald Falcon, Esq. "

"Why, " thought Staines, "what a time this letter must have been on theroad! So much for private messengers. "

The letter ran thus:--

DEAR SIR, --This leaves us all well at Dale's Kloof, as I hope it shallfind you and my dear husband at the diggings. Sir, I am happy to say Ihave good news for you. When you got well by God's mercy, I wrote tothe doctor at the hospital and told him so. I wrote unbeknown to you, because I had promised him. Well, sir, he has written back to say youhave two hundred pounds in money, and a great many valuable things, suchas gold and jewels. They are all at the old bank in Cape Town, and thecashier has seen you, and will deliver them on demand. So that is thefirst of my good news, because it is good news to you. But, dear sir, I think you will be pleased to hear that Dick and I are thrivingwonderfully, thanks to your good advice. The wooden house it is built, and a great oven. But, sir, the traffic came almost before we wereready, and the miners that call here, coming and going, every day, youwould not believe, likewise wagons and carts. It is all bustle, morntill night, and dear Reginald will never be dull here now; I hope youwill be so kind as tell him so, for I do long to see you both homeagain. 

Sir, we are making our fortunes. The grain we could not sell at a fairprice, we sell as bread, and higher than in England ever so much. Teaand coffee the same; and the poor things praise us, too, for being somoderate. So, sir, Dick bids me say that we owe this to you, and ifso be you are minded to share, why nothing would please us better. Head-piece is always worth money in these parts; and if it hurts yourpride to be our partner without money, why you can throw in what youhave at the Cape, though we don't ask that. And, besides, we are offereddiamonds a bargain every day, but are afraid to deal, for want ofexperience; but if you were in it with us, you must know them well bythis time, and we might turn many a good pound that way. Dear sir, Ihope you will not be offended, but I think this is the only way we have, Dick and I, to show our respect and good-will. 

Dear sir, digging is hard work, and not fit for you and Reginald, thatare gentlemen, amongst a lot of rough fellows, that their talk makes myhair stand on end, though I dare say they mean no harm. 

Your bedroom is always ready, sir. I never will let it to any of them, hoping now to see you every day. You that know everything, can guesshow I long to see you both home. My very good fortune seems not to tastelike good fortune, without those I love and esteem to share it. I shallcount how many days this letter will take to reach you, and then I shallpray for your safety harder than ever, till the blessed hour comes whenI see my husband, and my good friend, never to part again, I hope, inthis world. 

I am sir, your dutiful servant and friend, PHOEBE DALE. 

P. S. There is regular travelling to and from Cape Town, and a post nowto Pniel, but I thought it surest to send by one that knows you. 

Staines read this letter with great satisfaction. He remembered his twohundred pounds, but his gold and jewels puzzled him. Still it was goodnews, and pleased him not a little. Phoebe's good fortune gratifiedhim too, and her offer of a partnership, especially in the purchase ofdiamonds from returning diggers. He saw a large fortune to be made;and wearied and disgusted with recent ill-luck, blear-eyed and almostblinded with sorting in the blazing sun, he resolved to go at once toDale's Kloof. Should Mrs. Falcon be gone to England with the diamonds, he would stay there, and Rosa should come out to him, or he would go andfetch her. 

He went home, and washed himself, and told Bulteel he had had good news, and should leave the diggings at once. He gave him up the claim, andtold him to sell it by auction. It was worth two hundred pounds still. The good people sympathized with him, and he started within an hour. He left his pickaxe and shovel, and took only his double rifle, anadmirable one, some ammunition, including conical bullets and projectileshells given him by Falcon, a bag full of carbuncles and garnets hehad collected for Ucatella, a few small diamonds, and one hundredpounds, --all that remained to him, since he had been paying wages andother things for months, and had given Falcon twenty for his journey. 

He rode away and soon put twenty miles between him and the diggings. 

He came to a little store that bought diamonds and sold groceries andtobacco. He haltered his horse to a hook, and went in. He offered asmall diamond for sale. The master was out, and the assistant said therewas a glut of these small stones, he did not care to give money for it. 

"Well, give me three dozen cigars. "

While they were chaffering, in walked a Hottentot, and said, "Will youbuy this?" and laid a clear, glittering stone on the counter, as largeas a walnut. 

"Yes, " said the young man. "How much?"

"Two hundred pounds. "

"Two hundred pounds! Let us look at it;" he examined it, and said hethought it was a diamond, but these large stones were so deceitful, hedared not give two hundred pounds. "Come again in an hour, " said he, "then the master will be in. "

"No, " said the Hottentot quietly, and walked out. 

Staines, who had been literally perspiring at the sight of this stone, mounted his horse and followed the man. When he came up to him, he askedleave to examine the gem. The Hottentot quietly assented. 

Staines looked at it all over. It had a rough side and a polished side, and the latter was of amazing softness and lustre. It made him tremble. He said, "Look here, I have only one hundred pounds in my pocket. "

The Hottentot shook his head. 

"But if you will go back with me to Bulteel's farm, I'll borrow theother hundred. "

The Hottentot declined, and told him he could get four hundred poundsfor it by going back to Pniel. "But, " said he, "my face is turned so;and when Squat turn his face so, he going home. Not can bear go theother way then, " and he held out his hand for the diamond. 

Staines gave it him, and was in despair at seeing such a prize so near, yet leaving him. 

He made one more effort. "Well, but, " said he, "how far are you goingthis way?"

"Ten days. "

"Why, so am I. Come with me to Dale's Kloof, and I will give the otherhundred. See, I am in earnest, for here is one hundred, at all events. "

Staines made this proposal, trembling with excitement. To his surpriseand joy, the Hottentot assented, though with an air of indifference;and on these terms they became fellow-travellers, and Staines gave hima cigar. They went on side by side, and halted for the night forty milesfrom Bulteel's farm. 

They slept in a Boer's out-house, and the vrow was civil, and lentStaines a jackal's skin. In the morning he bought it for a diamond, acarbuncle, and a score of garnets; for a horrible thought had occurredto him, if they stopped at any place where miners were, somebody mightbuy the great diamond over his head. This fear, and others, grew on him, and with all his philosophy he went on thorns, and was the slave of thediamond. 

He resolved to keep his Hottentot all to himself if possible. He shota springbok that crossed the road, and they roasted a portion of theanimal, and the Hottentot carried some on with him. 

Seeing he admired the rifle, Staines offered it him for the odd hundredpounds; but though Squat's eye glittered a moment, he declined. 

Finding that they met too many diggers and carts, Staines asked hisHottentot was there no nearer way to reach that star, pointing to one heknew was just over Dale's Kloof. 

Oh, yes, he knew a nearer way, where there were trees, and shade, andgrass, and many beasts to shoot. 

"Let us take that way, " said Staines. 

The Hottentot, ductile as wax, except about the price of the diamond, assented calmly; and next day they diverged, and got into forestscenery, and their eyes were soothed with green glades here and there, wherever the clumps of trees sheltered the grass from the panting sun. Animals abounded, and were tame. Staines, an excellent marksman, shotthe Hottentot his supper without any trouble. 

Sleeping in the wood, with not a creature near but Squat, a sombrethought struck Staines. Suppose this Hottentot should assassinate himfor his money, who would ever know? The thought was horrible, and heawoke with a start ten times that night. The Hottentot slept like astone, and never feared for his own life and precious booty. Staines wascompelled to own to himself he had less faith in human goodness than thesavage had. He said to himself, "He is my superior. He is the master ofthis dreadful diamond, and I am its slave. "

Next day they went on till noon, and then they halted at a reallydelightful spot; a silver kloof ran along a bottom, and there was alittle clump of three acacia-trees that lowered their long tresses, pining for the stream, and sometimes getting a cool grateful kiss fromit when the water was high. 

They halted the horse, bathed in the stream, and lay luxurious under theacacias. All was delicious languor and enjoyment of life. 

The Hottentot made a fire, and burnt the remains of a little sort ofkangaroo Staines had shot him the evening before; but it did not sufficehis maw, and looking about him, he saw three elands leisurely feedingabout three hundred yards off. They were cropping the rich herbage closeto the shelter of a wood. 

The Hottentot suggested that this was an excellent opportunity. He wouldborrow Staines's rifle, steal into the wood, crawl on his belly close upto them, and send a bullet through one. 

Staines did not relish the proposal. He had seen the savage's eyerepeatedly gloat on the rifle, and was not without hopes he might evenyet relent, and give the great diamond for the hundred pounds andthis rifle; and he was so demoralized by the diamond, and filled withsuspicion, that he feared the savage, if he once had the rifle inhis possession, might levant, and be seen no more, in which case he, Staines, still the slave of the diamond, might hang himself on thenearest tree, and so secure his Rosa the insurance money, at all events. In short, he had really diamond on the brain. 

He hem'd and haw'd a little at Squat's proposal, and then got out of itby saying, "That is not necessary. I can shoot it from here. "

"It is too far, " objected Blacky. 

"Too far! This is an Enfield rifle. I could kill the poor beast at threetimes that distance. "

Blacky was amazed. "An Enfield rifle, " said he, in the soft musicalmurmur of his tribe, which is the one charm of the poor Hottentot; "andshoot three times SO far. "

"Yes, " said Christopher. Then, seeing his companion's hesitation, heconceived a hope. "If I kill that eland from here, will you give me thediamond for my horse and the wonderful rifle?--no Hottentot has such arifle. "

Squat became cold directly. "The price of the diamond is two hundredpounds. "

Staines groaned with disappointment, and thought to himself with rage, "Anybody but me would club the rifle, give the obstinate black brute astunner, and take the diamond--God forgive me!"

Says the Hottentot cunningly, "I can't think so far as white man. Let mesee the eland dead, and then I shall know how far the rifle shoot. "

"Very well, " said Staines. But he felt sure the savage only wanted hismeal, and would never part with the diamond, except for the odd money. 

However, he loaded his left barrel with one of the explosive projectilesFalcon had given him; it was a little fulminating shell with a steelpoint. It was with this barrel he had shot the murcat overnight, and hehad found he shot better with this barrel than the other. He loaded hisleft barrel then, saw the powder well up, capped it and cut away a stripof the acacia with his knife to see clear, and lying down in volunteerfashion, elbow on ground, drew his bead steadily on an eland whopresented him her broadside, her back being turned to the wood. The sunshone on her soft coat, and never was a fairer mark, the sportsman'sdeadly eye being in the cool shade, the animal in the sun. 

He aimed long and steadily. But just as he was about to pull thetrigger, Mind interposed, and he lowered the deadly weapon. "Poorcreature!" he said, "I am going to take her life--for what? for a singlemeal. She is as big as a pony; and I am to lay her carcass on the plain, that we may eat two pounds of it. This is how the weasel kills therabbit; sucks an ounce of blood for his food, and wastes the rest. Sothe demoralized sheep-dog tears out the poor creature's kidneys, andwastes the rest. Man, armed by science with such powers of slaying, should be less egotistical than weasels and perverted sheep-dogs. I willnot kill her. I will not lay that beautiful body of hers low, and glazethose tender, loving eyes that never gleamed with hate or rage at man, and fix those innocent jaws that never bit the life out of anything, noteven of the grass she feeds on, and does it more good than harm. Feedon, poor innocent. And you be blanked; you and your diamond, that Ibegin to wish I had never seen; for it would corrupt an angel. "

Squat understood one word in ten, but he managed to reply. "This isnonsense-talk, " said he, gravely. "The life is no bigger in that than inthe murcat you shot last shoot. "

"No more it is, " said Staines. "I am a fool. It is come to this, then; Kafirs teach us theology, and Hottentots morality. I bow to myintellectual superior. I'll shoot the eland. " He raised his rifle again. 

"No, no, no, no, no, no, " murmured the Hottentot, in a sweet voicescarcely audible, yet so keen in its entreaty, that Staines turnedhastily round to look at him. His face was ashy, his teeth chattering, his limbs shaking. Before Staines could ask him what was the matter, he pointed through an aperture of the acacias into the wood hard by theelands. Staines looked, and saw what seemed to him like a very long dog, or some such animal, crawling from tree to tree. He did not at allshare the terror of his companion, nor understand it. But a terribleexplanation followed. This creature, having got to the skirt of thewood, expanded, by some strange magic, to an incredible size, and spranginto the open, with a growl, a mighty lion; he seemed to ricochet fromthe ground, so immense was his second bound, that carried him to theeland, and he struck her one blow on the head with his terrible paw, andfelled her as if with a thunderbolt: down went her body, with all thelegs doubled, and her poor head turned over, and the nose kissed theground. The lion stood motionless. Presently the eland, who was notdead, but stunned, began to recover and struggle feebly up. Then thelion sprang on her with a roar, and rolled her over, and with twotremendous bites and a shake, tore her entrails out and laid her dying. He sat composedly down, and contemplated her last convulsions, withouttouching her again. 

At this roar, though not loud, the horse, though he had never heard orseen a lion, trembled, and pulled at his halter. 

Blacky crept into the water; and Staines was struck with such an awe ashe had never felt. Nevertheless, the king of beasts being at a distance, and occupied, and Staines a brave man, and out of sight, he kepthis ground and watched, and by those means saw a sight never to beforgotten. The lion rose up, and stood in the sun incredibly beautifulas well as terrible. He was not the mangy hue of the caged lion, but askin tawny, golden, glossy as a race-horse, and of exquisite tint thatshone like pure gold in the sun; his eye a lustrous jewel of richesthue, and his mane sublime. He looked towards the wood, and uttered afull roar. This was so tremendous that the horse shook all over as if inan ague, and began to lather. Staines recoiled, and his flesh crept, andthe Hottentot went under water, and did not emerge for ever so long. 

After a pause, the lion roared again, and all the beasts and birds ofprey seemed to know the meaning of that terrible roar. Till then theplace had been a solitude, but now it began to fill in the strangestway, as if the lord of the forest could call all his subjects togetherwith a trumpet roar: first came two lion cubs, to whom, in fact, theroar had been addressed. The lion rubbed himself several times againstthe eland, but did not eat a morsel, and the cubs went in and feastedon the prey. The lion politely and paternally drew back, and watched theyoung people enjoying themselves. 

Meantime approached, on tiptoe, jackals and hyenas, but dared not cometoo near. Slate-colored vultures settled at a little distance, but nota soul dared interfere with the cubs; they saw the lion was actingsentinel, and they knew better than come near. 

After a time, papa feared for the digestion of those brats, or else hisown mouth watered; for he came up, knocked them head over heels with hisvelvet paw, and they took the gentle hint, and ran into the wood doublequick. 

Then the lion began tearing away at the eland, and bolting huge morselsgreedily. This made the rabble's mouth water. The hyenas, and jackals, and vultures formed a circle ludicrous to behold, and that circle keptnarrowing as the lion tore away at his prey. They increased in number, and at last hunger overcame prudence; the rear rank shoved on the front, as amongst men, and a general attack seemed imminent. 

Then the lion looked up at these invaders, uttered a reproachful growl, and went at them, patting them right and left, and knocking them over. He never touched a vulture, nor indeed did he kill an animal. He was alion, and only killed to eat; yet he soon cleared the place, becausehe knocked over a few hyenas and jackals, and the rest, being active, tumbled over the vultures before they could spread their heavy wings. After this warning, they made a respectful circle again, through which, in due course, the gorged lion stalked into the wood. 

A savage's sentiments change quickly, and the Hottentot, fearing littlefrom a full lion, was now giggling at Staines's side. Staines asked himwhich he thought was the lord of all creatures, a man or a lion. 

"A lion, " said Blacky, amazed at such a shallow question. 

Staines now got up, and proposed to continue their journey. But Blackywas for waiting till the lion was gone to sleep after his meal. 

While they discussed the question, the lion burst out of the woodwithin hearing of their voices, as his pricked-up ears showed, and madestraight for them at a distance of scarcely thirty yards. 

Now, the chances are, the lion knew nothing about them, and only came todrink at the kloof, after his meal, and perhaps lie under the acacias:but who can think calmly, when his first lion bursts out on him a fewpaces off? Staines shouldered his rifle, took a hasty, flurried aim, andsent a bullet at him. 

If he had missed him, perhaps the report might have turned the lion; buthe wounded him, and not mortally. Instantly the enraged beast uttereda terrific roar, and came at him with his mane distended with rage, hiseyes glaring, his mouth open, and his whole body dilated with fury. 

At that terrible moment, Staines recovered his wits enough to see thatwhat little chance he had was to fire into the destroyer, not at him. Hekneeled, and levelled at the centre of the lion's chest, and not till hewas within five yards did he fire. Through the smoke he saw the lion inthe air above him, and rolled shrieking into the stream and crawled likea worm under the bank, by one motion, and there lay trembling. A fewseconds of sick stupor passed: all was silent. Had the lion lost him?Was it possible he might yet escape?

All was silent. 

He listened, in agony, for the sniffing of the lion, puzzling him out byscent. 

No: all was silent. 

Staines looked round, and saw a woolly head, and two saucer eyes andopen nostrils close by him. It was the Hottentot, more dead than alive. 

Staines whispered him, "I think he is gone. "

The Hottentot whispered, "Gone a little way to watch. He is wise as wellas strong. " With this he disappeared beneath the water. 

Still no sound but the screaming of the vultures, and snarling of thehyenas and jackals over the eland. 

"Take a look, " said Staines. 

"Yes, " said Squat; "but not to-day. Wait here a day or two. Den heforget and forgive. "

Now Staines, having seen the lion lie down and watch the dying eland, was a great deal impressed by this; and as he had now good hopes ofsaving his life, he would not throw away a chance. He kept his head justabove water, and never moved. 

In this freezing situation they remained. 

Presently there was a rustling that made both crouch. 

It was followed by a croaking noise. 

Christopher made himself small. 

The Hottentot, on the contrary, raised his head, and ventured a littleway into the stream. 

By these means he saw it was something very foul, but not terrible. It was a large vulture that had settled on the very top of the nearestacacia. 

At this the Hottentot got bolder still, and to the great surprise ofStaines began to crawl cautiously into some rushes, and through them upthe bank. 

The next moment he burst into a mixture of yelling and chirping andsinging, and other sounds so manifestly jubilant, that the vultureflapped heavily away, and Staines emerged in turn, but very cautiously. 

Could he believe his eyes? There lay the lion, dead as a stone, on hisback, with his four legs in the air, like wooden legs, they were so verydead: and the valiant Squat, dancing about him, and on him, and overhim. 

Staines, unable to change his sentiments so quickly, eyed even the deadbody of the royal beast with awe and wonder. What! had he already laidthat terrible monarch low, and with a tube made in a London shop by menwho never saw a lion spring, nor heard his awful roar shake the air?He stood with his heart still beating, and said not a word. The shallowHottentot whipped out a large knife, and began to skin the king ofbeasts. Staines wondered he could so profane that masterpiece of nature. He felt more inclined to thank God for so great a preservation, and thenpass reverently on, and leave the dead king undesecrated. 

He was roused from his solemn thoughts by the reflection that theremight be a lioness about, since there were cubs: he took a piece ofpaper, emptied his remaining powder into it, and proceeded to dry it inthe sun. This was soon done, and then he loaded both barrels. 

By this time the adroit Hottentot had flayed the carcass sufficientlyto reveal the mortal injury. The projectile had entered the chest, andslanting upwards, had burst among the vitals, reducing them to a gorypulp. The lion must have died in the air, when he bounded on receivingthe fatal shot. 

The Hottentot uttered a cry of admiration. "Not the lion king of all, nor even the white man, " he said; "but Enfeel rifle!"

Staines's eyes glittered. "You shall have it, and the horse, for yourdiamond, " said he eagerly. 

The black seemed a little shaken; but did not reply. He got out of itby going on with his lion; and Staines eyed him, and was bitterlydisappointed at not getting the diamond even on these terms. He began tofeel he should never get it: they were near the high-road; he could notkeep the Hottentot to himself much longer. He felt sick at heart. He hadwild and wicked thoughts; half hoped the lioness would come and kill theHottentot, and liberate the jewel that possessed his soul. 

At last the skin was off, and the Hottentot said, "Me take this to mykraal, and dey all say, 'Squat a great shooter; kill um lion. '"

Then Staines saw another chance for him, and summoned all his addressfor a last effort. "No, Squat, " said he, "that skin belongs to me. Ishot the lion, with the only rifle that can kill a lion like a cat. Yetyou would not give me a diamond--a paltry stone for it. No, Squat, ifyou were to go into your village with that lion's skin, why the old menwould bend their heads to you, and say, 'Great is Squat! He killed thelion, and wears his skin. ' The young women would all fight which shouldbe the wife of Squat. Squat would be king of the village. "

Squat's eyes began to roll. 

"And shall I give the skin, and the glory that is my due, to anill-natured fellow, who refuses me his paltry diamond for agood horse--look at him--and for the rifle that kills lions likerabbits--behold it; and a hundred pounds in good gold and Dutchnotes--see; and for the lion's skin, and glory, and honor, and a richwife, and to be king of Africa? Never!"

The Hottentot's hands and toes began to work convulsively. "Good master, Squat ask pardon. Squat was blind. Squat will give the diamond, thegreat diamond of Africa, for the lion's skin, and the king rifle, andthe little horse, and the gold, and Dutch notes every one of them. Datmake just two hundred pounds. "

"More like four hundred, " cried Staines very loud. "And how do I knowit is a diamond? These large stones are the most deceitful. Show it me, this instant, " said he imperiously. 

"Iss, master, " said the crushed Hottentot, with the voice of a mouse, and put the stone into his hand with a child-like faith that almostmelted Staines; but he saw he must be firm. "Where did you find it?" hebawled. 

"Master, " said poor Squat, in deprecating tones, "my little master atthe farm wanted plaster. He send to Bulteel's pan; dere was large lumps. Squat say to miners, 'May we take de large lumps? Dey say, 'Yes; take decursed lumps we no can break. ' We took de cursed lumps. We ride 'em inde cart to farm twenty milses. I beat 'em with my hammer. Dey is veryhard. More dey break my heart dan I break their cursed heads. One day Iuse strong words, like white man, and I hit one large lump too hard; hebreak, and out come de white clear stone. Iss, him diamond. Long time weknow him in our kraal, because he hard. Long time before ever white manknow him, tousand years ago, we find him, and he make us lilly hole inbig stone for make wheat dust. Him a diamond, blank my eyes!"

This was intended as a solemn form of asseveration adapted to the whiteman's habits. 

Yes, reader, he told the truth; and strange to say, the miners knewthe largest stones were in these great lumps of carbonate, but then thelumps were so cruelly hard, they lost all patience with them, and so, finding it was no use to break some of them, and not all, they rejectedthem all, with curses; and thus this great stone was carted away asrubbish from the mine, and found, like a toad in a hole, by Squat. 

"Well, " said Christopher, "after all, you are an honest fellow, and Ithink I will buy it; but first you must show me out of this wood; I amnot going to be eaten alive in it for want of the king of rifles. "

Squat assented eagerly, and they started at once. They passed theskeleton of the eland; its very bones were polished, and its headcarried into the wood; and looking back they saw vultures busy on thelion. They soon cleared the wood. 

Squat handed Staines the diamond--when it touched his hand, as hisown, a bolt of ice seemed to run down his back, and hot water to followit--and the money, horse, rifle, and skin were made over to Squat. 

"Shake hands over it, Squat, " said Staines; "you are hard, but you arehonest. "

"Iss, master, I a good much hard and honest, " said Squat. 

"Good-by, old fellow. "

"Good-by, master. "

And Squat strutted away, with the halter in his hand, horse followinghim, rifle under his arm, and the lion's skin over his shoulders, andthe tail trailing, a figure sublime in his own eyes, ridiculous increation's. So vanity triumphed, even in the wilds of Africa. 

Staines hurried forward on foot, loading his revolver as he went, forthe very vicinity of the wood alarmed him now that he had parted withhis trusty rifle. 

That night he lay down on the open veldt, in his jackal's skin, withno weapon but his revolver, and woke with a start a dozen times. Justbefore daybreak he scanned the stars carefully, and noting exactly wherethe sun rose, made a rough guess at his course, and followed it till thesun was too hot; then he crept under a ragged bush, hung up his jackal'sskin, and sweated there, parched with thirst, and gnawed with hunger. When it was cooler, he crept on, and found water, but no food. He was intorture, and began to be frightened, for he was in a desert. He found anostrich egg and ate it ravenously. 

Next day, hunger took a new form, faintness. He could not walk for it;his jackal's skin oppressed him; he lay down exhausted. A horror seizedhis dejected soul. The diamond! It would be his death. No man must solong for any earthly thing as he had for this glittering traitor. "Oh!my good horse! my trusty rifle!" he cried. "For what have I thrown youaway? For starvation. Misers have been found stretched over their gold;and some day my skeleton will be found, and nothing to tell the basedeath I died of and deserved; nothing but the cursed diamond. Ay, fiend, glare in my eyes, do!" He felt delirium creeping over him; and at that anew terror froze him. His reason, that he had lost once, was he to loseit again? He prayed; he wept; he dozed, and forgot all. When he wokeagain, a cool air was fanning his cheeks; it revived him a little; itbecame almost a breeze. 

And this breeze, as it happened, carried on its wings the curse ofAfrica. There loomed in the north-west a cloud of singular density, thatseemed to expand in size as it drew nearer, yet to be still moresolid, and darken the air. It seemed a dust-storm. Staines took out hishandkerchief, prepared to wrap his face in it, not to be stifled. 

But soon there was a whirring and a whizzing, and hundreds of locustsflew over his head; they were followed by thousands, the swiftest of themighty host. They thickened and thickened, till the air looked solid, and even that glaring sun was blackened by the rushing mass. Birds ofall sorts whirled above, and swooped among them. They peppered Stainesall over like shot. They stuck in his beard, and all over him; theyclogged the bushes, carpeted the ground, while the darkened air sangas with the whirl of machinery. Every bird in the air, and beast of thefield, granivorous or carnivorous, was gorged with them; and to theseanimals was added man, for Staines, being famished, and remembering thevrow Bulteel, lighted a fire, and roasted a handful or two on aflat stone; they were delicious. The fire once lighted, they cookedthemselves, for they kept flying into it. Three hours, withoutinterruption, did they darken nature, and, before the column ceased, all the beasts of the field came after, gorging them so recklessly, thatStaines could have shot an antelope dead with his pistol within a yardof him. 

But to tell the horrible truth, the cooked locusts were so nice that hepreferred to gorge on them along with the other animals. 

He roasted another lot, for future use, and marched on with a goodheart. 

But now he got on some rough, scrubby ground, and damaged his shoes, andtore his trousers. 

This lasted a terrible distance; but at the end of it came the usualarid ground; and at last he came upon the track of wheels and hoofs. He struck it at an acute angle, and that showed him he had made a goodline. He limped along it a little way, slowly, being footsore. 

By and by, looking back, he saw a lot of rough fellows swaggering alongbehind him. Then he was alarmed, terribly alarmed, for his diamond; hetore a strip of his handkerchief, and tied the stone cunningly under hisarmpit as he hobbled on. 

The men came up with him. 

"Hallo, mate! Come from the diggings?"

"Yes. "

"What luck?"

"Very good. "

"Haw! haw! What! found a fifty-carat? Show it us. "

"We found five big stones, my mate and me. He is gone to Cape Town tosell them. I had no luck when he had left me, so I have cut it; going toturn farmer. Can you tell me how far it is to Dale's Kloof?"

No, they could not tell him that. They swung on; and, to Staines, theirbacks were a cordial, as we say in Scotland. 

However, his travels were near an end. Next morning he saw Dale's Kloofin the distance; and as soon as the heat moderated, he pushed on, with one shoe and tattered trousers; and half an hour before sunset hehobbled up to the place. 

It was all bustle. Travellers at the door; their wagons and carts undera long shed. 

Ucatella was the first to see him coming, and came and fawned on himwith delight. Her eyes glistened, her teeth gleamed. She patted bothhis cheeks, and then his shoulders, and even his knees, and then flewin-doors crying, "My doctor child is come home!" This amused threetravellers, and brought out Dick, with a hearty welcome. 

"But Lordsake, sir, why have you come afoot; and a rough road too? Lookat your shoes. Hallo! What is come of the horse?"

"I exchanged him for a diamond. "

"The deuce you did! And the rifle?"

"Exchanged that for the same diamond. "

"It ought to be a big 'un. "

"It is. "

Dick made a wry face. "Well, sir, you know best. You are welcome, onhorse or afoot. You are just in time; Phoebe and me are just sittingdown to dinner. "

He took him into a little room they had built for their own privacy, forthey liked to be quiet now and then, being country bred; and Phoebe wasputting their dinner on the table, when Staines limped in. 

She gave a joyful cry, and turned red all over. "Oh, doctor!" Then histravel-torn appearance struck her. "But, dear heart! what a figure!Where's Reginald? Oh, he's not far off, I know. "

And she flung open the window, and almost flew through it in a moment, to look for her husband. 

"Reginald?" said Staines. Then turning to Dick Dale, "Why, he ishere--isn't he?"

"No, sir: not without he is just come with you. "

"With me?--no. You know we parted at the diggings. Come, Mr. Dale, hemay not be here now; but he has been here. He must have been here. "

Phoebe, who had not lost a word, turned round, with all her high colorgone, and her cheeks getting paler and paler. "Oh, Dick! what is this?"

"I don't understand it, " said Dick. "Whatever made you think he washere, sir?"

"Why, I tell you he left me to come here. "

"Left you, sir!" faltered Phoebe. "Why, when?--where?"

"At the diggings--ever so long ago. "

"Blank him! that is just like him; the uneasy fool!" roared Dick. 

"No, Mr. Dale, you should not say that; he left me, with my consent, to come to Mrs. Falcon here, and consult her about disposing of ourdiamonds. "

"Diamonds!--diamonds!" cried Phoebe. "Oh, they make me tremble. HowCOULD you let him go alone! You didn't let HIM go on foot, I hope?"

"Oh, no, Mrs. Falcon; he had his horse, and his rifle, and money tospend on the road. "

"How long ago did he leave you, sir?"

"I--I am sorry to say it was five weeks ago. "

"Five weeks! and not come yet. Ah! the wild beasts!--the diggers!--themurderers! He is dead!"

"God forbid!" faltered Staines; but his own blood began to run cold. 

"He is dead. He has died between this and the dreadful diamonds. I shallnever see my darling again: he is dead. He is dead. "

She rushed out of the room, and out of the house, throwing her armsabove her head in despair, and uttering those words of agony again andagain in every variety of anguish. 

At such horrible moments women always swoon--if we are to believe thedramatists. I doubt if there is one grain of truth in this. Women seldomswoon at all, unless their bodies are unhealthy, or weakened by thereaction that follows so terrible a shock as this. At all events, Phoebe, at first, was strong and wild as a lion, and went to and frooutside the house, unconscious of her body's motion, frenzied withagony, and but one word on her lips, "He is dead!--he is dead!"

Dick followed her, crying like a child, but master of himself; he gothis people about her, and half carried her in again; then shut the doorin all their faces. 

He got the poor creature to sit down, and she began to rock and moan, with her apron over her head, and her brown hair loose about her. 

"Why should he be dead?" said Dick. "Don't give a man up like that, Phoebe. Doctor, tell us more about it. Oh, man, how could you let himout of your sight? You knew how fond the poor creature was of him. "

"But that was it, Mr. Dale, " said Staines. "I knew his wife must pinefor him; and we had found six large diamonds, and a handful of smallones; but the market was glutted; and to get a better price, he wantedto go straight to Cape Town. But I said, 'No; go and show them to yourwife, and see whether she will go to Cape Town. '"

Phoebe began to listen, as was evident by her moaning more softly. 

"Might he not have gone straight to Cape Town?" Staines hazarded thistimidly. 

"Why should he do that, sir? Dale's Kloof is on the road. "

"Only on one road. Mr. Dale, he was well armed, with rifle and revolver;and I cautioned him not to show a diamond on the road. Who would molesthim? Diamonds don't show, like gold. Who was to know he had threethousand pounds hidden under his armpits, and in two barrels of hisrevolver?"

"Three thousand pounds!" cried Dale. "You trusted HIM with threethousand pounds?"

"Certainly. They were worth about three thousand pounds in Cape Town, and half as much again in"--

Phoebe started up in a moment. "Thank God!" she cried. "There's hope forme. Oh, Dick, he is not dead: HE HAS ONLY DESERTED ME. "

And with these strange and pitiable words, she fell to sobbing as if hergreat heart would burst at last. 

CHAPTER XXIV. 

There came a reaction, and Phoebe was prostrated with grief and alarm. Her brother never doubted now that Reginald had run to Cape Town for alark. But Phoebe, though she thought so too, could not be sure; and sothe double agony of bereavement and desertion tortured her by turns, andalmost together. For the first time these many years, she was so crushedshe could not go about her business, but lay on a little sofa in her ownroom, and had the blinds down, for her head ached so she could not bearthe light. 

She conceived a bitter resentment against Staines; and told Dick neverto let him into her sight, if he did not want to be her death. 

In vain Dick made excuses for him: she would hear none. For once shewas as unreasonable as any other living woman: she could see nothing butthat she had been happy, after years of misery, and should be happy nowif this man had never entered her house. "Ah, Collie!" she cried, "youwere wiser than I was. You as good as told me he would make me smart forlodging and curing him. And I was SO happy!"

Dale communicated this as delicately as he could to Staines. Christopherwas deeply grieved and wounded. He thought it unjust, but he knew itwas natural: he said, humbly, "I feel guilty myself, Mr. Dale; and yet, unless I had possessed omniscience, what could I do? I thought of her inall--poor thing! poor thing!"

The tears were in his eyes, and Dick Dale went away scratching his headand thinking it over. The more he thought, the less he was inclined tocondemn him. 

Staines himself was much troubled in mind, and lived on thorns. Hewanted to be off to England; grudged every day, every hour, he spent inAfrica. But Mrs. Falcon was his benefactress; he had been, for monthsand months, garnering up a heap of gratitude towards her. He had notthe heart to leave her bad friends, and in misery. He kept hoping Falconwould return, or write. 

Two days after his return, he was seated, disconsolate, gluing garnetsand carbuncles on to a broad tapering bit of lambskin, when Ucatellacame to him and said, "My doctor child sick?"

"No, not sick: but miserable. " And he explained to her, as well as hecould, what had passed. "But, " said he, "I would not mind the loss ofthe diamonds now, if I was only sure he was alive. I think most of poor, poor Mrs. Falcon. "

While Ucatella pondered this, but with one eye of demure curiosity onthe coronet he was making, he told her it was for her--he had not forgother at the mines. 

"These stones, " said he, "are not valued there; but see how gloriousthey are!"

In a few minutes he had finished the coronet, and gave it her. Sheuttered a chuckle of delight, and with instinctive art, bound it, in aturn of her hand, about her brow; and then Staines himself was struckdumb with amazement. The carbuncles gathered from those mines look likerubies, so full of fire are they, and of enormous size. The chaplet hadtwelve great carbuncles in the centre, and went off by gradations intosmaller garnets by the thousand. They flashed their blood-red flames inthe African sun, and the head of Ucatella, grand before, became the headof the Sphinx, encircled with a coronet of fire. She bestowed a look ofrapturous gratitude on Staines, and then glided away, like the statelyJuno, to admire herself in the nearest glass like any other coquette, black, brown, yellow, copper, or white. 

That very day, towards sunset, she burst upon Staines quite suddenly, with her coronet gleaming on her magnificent head, and her eyes likecoals of fire, and under her magnificent arm, hard as a rock, a boykicking and struggling in vain. She was furiously excited, and, for thefirst time, showed signs of the savage in the whites of her eyes, which seemed to turn the glorious pupils into semicircles. She clutchedStaines by the shoulder with her left hand, and swept along withthe pair, like dark Fate, or as potent justice sweeps away a pair ofculprits, and carried them to the little window, and cried "Open--open!"

Dick Dale was at dinner; Phoebe lying down. Dick got up, rather crossly, and threw open the window. "What is up now?" said he crossly: he waslike two or three more Englishmen--hated to be bothered at dinner-time. 

"Dar, " screamed Ucatella, setting down Tim, but holding him tight by theshoulder; "now you tell what you see that night, you lilly Kafir trash;if you not tell, I kill you DEAD;" and she showed the whites of hereyes, like a wild beast. 

Tim, thoroughly alarmed, quivered out that he had seen lilly master rideup to the gate one bright night, and look in, and Tim thought he wasgoing in: but he changed his mind, and galloped away that way; and themonkey pointed south. 

"And why couldn't you tell us this before?" questioned Dick. 

"Me mind de sheep, " said Tim apologetically. "Me not mind de lillymaster: jackals not eat him. "

"You no more sense dan a sheep yourself, " said Ucatella loftily. 

"No, no: God bless you both, " cried poor Phoebe: "now I know the worst:"and a great burst of tears relieved her suffering heart. 

Dick went out softly. When he got outside the door, he drew them allapart, and said, "Yuke, you ARE a good-hearted girl. I'll never forgetthis while I live; and, Tim, there's a shilling for thee; but don't yougo and spend it in Cape smoke; that is poison to whites, and destructionto blacks. "

"No, master, " said Tim. "I shall buy much bread, and make my tomachtiff;" then, with a glance of reproach at the domestic caterer, Ucatella, "I almost never have my tomach tiff. "

Dick left his sister alone an hour or two, to have her cry out. 

When he went back to her there was a change: the brave woman no longerlay prostrate. She went about her business; only she was always eithercrying or drowning her tears. 

He brought Dr. Staines in. Phoebe instantly turned her back on him witha shudder there was no mistaking. 

"I had better go, " said Staines. "Mrs. Falcon will never forgive me. "

"She will have to quarrel with me else, " said Dick steadily. "Sit youdown, doctor. Honest folk like you and me and Phoebe wasn't made toquarrel for want of looking a thing all round. My sister she hasn'tlooked it all round, and I have. Come, Pheeb, 'tis no use your blindingyourself. How was the poor doctor to know your husband is a blackguard?"

"He is not a blackguard. How dare you say that to my face?"

"He is a blackguard, and always was. And now he is a thief to boot. Hehas stolen those diamonds; you know that very well. "

"Gently, Mr. Dale; you forget: they are as much his as mine. "

"Well, and if half a sheep is mine, and I take the whole and sell him, and keep the money, what is that but stealing? Why, I wonder at you, Pheeb. You was always honest yourself, and yet you see the doctor robbedby your man, and that does not trouble you. What has he done to deserveit? He has been a good friend to us. He has put us on the road. We didlittle more than keep the pot boiling before he came--well, yes, westored grain; but whose advice has turned that grain to gold, I mightsay? Well, what's his offence? He trusted the diamonds to your man, andsent him to you. Is he the first honest man that has trusted a rogue?How was he to know? Likely he judged the husband by the wife. Answer meone thing, Pheeb. If he makes away with fifteen hundred pounds thatis his, or partly yours--for he has eaten your bread ever since I knewhim--and fifteen hundred more that is the doctor's, where shall we findfifteen hundred pounds, all in a moment, to pay the doctor back hisown?"

"My honest friend, " said Staines, "you are tormenting yourself withshadows. I don't believe Mr. Falcon will wrong me of a shilling; and, if he does, I shall quietly repay myself out of the big diamond. Yes, mydear friends, I did not throw away your horse, nor your rifle, nor yourmoney: I gave them all, and the lion's skin--I gave them all--for this. "

And he laid the big diamond on the table. 

It was as big as a walnut, and of the purest water. 

Dick Dale glanced at it stupidly. Phoebe turned her back on it, with acry of horror, and then came slowly round by degrees; and her eyes werefascinated by the royal gem. 

"Yes, " said Staines sadly, "I had to strip myself of all to buy it, and, when I had got it, how proud I was, and how happy I thought we shouldall be over it, for it is half yours, half mine. Yes, Mr. Dale, therelies six thousand pounds that belong to Mrs. Falcon. "

"Six thousand pounds!" cried Dick. 

"I'm sure of it. And so, if your suspicions are correct, and poor Falconshould yield to a sudden temptation, and spend all that money, I shalljust coolly deduct it from your share of this wonderful stone: so makeyour mind easy. But no; if Falcon is really so wicked as to desert hishappy home, and so mad as to spend thousands in a month or two, let usgo and save him. "

"That is my business, " said Phoebe. "I am going in the mail-cartto-morrow. "

"Well, you won't go alone, " said Dick. 

"Mrs. Falcon, " said Staines imploringly, "let me go with you. "

"Thank you, sir. My brother can take care of me. "

"Me! You had better not take me. If I catch hold of him, by --- I'llbreak his neck, or his back, or his leg, or something; he'll never runaway from you again, if I lay hands on him, " replied Dick. 

"I'll go alone. You are both against me. "

"No, Mrs. Falcon; I am not, " said Staines. "My heart bleeds for you. "

"Don't you demean yourself, praying her, " said Dick. "It's a publicconveyance: you have no need to ask HER leave. "

"That is true: I can't hinder folk from going to Cape Town the sameday, " said Phoebe sullenly. 

"If I might presume to advise, I would take little Tommy. "

"What! all that road? Do you want me to lose my child, as well as myman?"

"O Mrs. Falcon!"

"Don't speak to her, doctor, to get your nose snapped off. Give hertime. She'll come to her senses before she dies. "

Next day Mrs. Falcon and Staines started for Cape Town. Staines paidher every attention, when opportunity offered. But she was sullen andgloomy, and held no converse with him. 

He landed her at an inn, and then told her he would go at once to thejeweller's. He asked her piteously would she lend him a pound or two toprosecute his researches. She took out her purse, without a word, andlent him two pounds. 

He began to scour the town: the jewellers he visited could tell himnothing. At last he came to a shop, and there he found Mrs. Falconmaking her inquiries independently. She said coldly, "You had bettercome with me, and get your money and things. "

She took him to the bank--it happened to be the one she did businesswith--and said, "This is Dr. Christie, come for his money and jewels. "

There was some demur at this; but the cashier recognized him, and Phoebemaking herself responsible, the money and jewels were handed over. 

Staines whispered Phoebe, "Are you sure the jewels are mine?"

"They were found on you, sir. "

Staines took them, looking confused. He did not know what to think. Whenthey got into the street again, he told her it was very kind of her tothink of his interest at all. 

No answer: she was not going to make friends with him over such a trifleas that. 

By degrees, however, Christopher's zeal on her behalf broke the ice; andbesides, as the search proved unavailing, she needed sympathy; and hegave it her, and did not abuse her husband as Dick Dale did. 

One day, in the street, after a long thought, she said to him, "Didn'tyou say, sir, you gave him a letter for me?"

"I gave him two letters; one of them was to you. "

"Could you remember what you said in it?"

"Perfectly. I begged you, if you should go to England, to break thetruth to my wife. She is very excitable; and sudden joy has killed erenow. I gave you particular instructions. "

"And you were very wise. But whatever could make you think I would go toEngland?"

"He told me you only wanted an excuse. "

"Oh!!"

"When he told me that, I caught at it, of course. It was all the worldto me to get my Rosa told by such a kind, good, sensible friend as you;and, Mrs. Falcon, I had no scruple about troubling you, because I knewthe stones would sell for at least a thousand pounds more in Englandthan here, and that would pay your expenses. "

"I see, sir; I see. 'Twas very natural: you love your wife. "

"Better than my life. "

"And he told you I only wanted an excuse to go to England?"

"He did, indeed. It was not true?"

"It was anything but true. I had suffered so in England; I had been sohappy here: too happy to last. Ah! well, it is all over. Let us thinkof the matter in hand. Sure that was not the only letter you gave myhusband? Didn't you write to HER?"

"Of course I did; but that was enclosed to you, and not to be given toher until you had broken the joyful news to her. Yes, Mrs. Falcon, Iwrote and told her everything: my loss at sea; how I was saved, after, by your kindness. Our journeys, from Cape Town, and then to thediggings; my sudden good fortune, my hopes, my joy--O my poor Rosa! andnow I suppose she will never get it. It is too cruel of him. I shallgo home by the next steamer. I CAN'T stay here any longer, for you oranybody. Oh, and I enclosed my ruby ring that she gave me, for I thoughtshe might not believe you without that. "

"Let me think, " said Phoebe, turning ashy pale. "For mercy's sake, letme think!

"He has read both those letters, sir. 

"She will never see hers: any more than I shall see mine. "

She paused again, thinking harder and harder. 

"We must take two places in the next mail steamer. I must look after myhusband, AND YOU AFTER YOUR WIFE. "

CHAPTER XXV. 

Mrs. Falcon's bitter feeling against Dr. Staines did not subside; itmerely went out of sight a little. They were thrown together by potentcircumstances, and in a manner connected by mutual obligations; soan open rupture seemed too unnatural. Still Phoebe was a woman, and, blinded by her love for her husband, could not forgive the innocentcause of their present unhappy separation; though the fault lay entirelywith Falcon. 

Staines took her on board the steamer, and paid her every attention. Shewas also civil to him; but it was a cold and constrained civility. 

About a hundred miles from land the steamer stopped, and the passengerssoon learned there was something wrong with her machinery. In fact, after due consultation, the captain decided to put back. 

This irritated and distressed Mrs. Falcon so that the captain, desirousto oblige her, hailed a fast schooner, that tacked across her bows, andgave Mrs. Falcon the option of going back with him, or going on in theschooner, with whose skipper he was acquainted. 

Staines advised her on no account to trust to sails, when she could havesteam with only a delay of four or five days; but she said, "Anythingsooner than go back. I can't, I can't on such an errand. "

Accordingly she was put on board the schooner, and Staines, after somehesitation, felt bound to accompany her. 

It proved a sad error. Contrary winds assailed them the very next day, and with such severity that they had repeatedly to lie to. 

On one of these occasions, with a ship reeling under them like a restivehorse, and the waves running mountains high, poor Phoebe's terrorsovermastered both her hostility and her reserve. "Doctor, " said she, "Ibelieve 'tis God's will we shall never see England. I must try and diemore like a Christian than I have lived, forgiving all who have wrongedme, and you, that have been my good friend and my worst enemy, but youdid not mean it. Sir, what has turned me against you so--your wife wasmy husband's sweetheart before he married me. "

"My wife your husband's--you are dreaming. "

"Nay, sir, once she came to my shop, and I saw directly I was nothing tohim, and he owned it all to me; he had courted her, and she jilted him;so he said. Why should he tell me a lie about that? I'd lay my life 'tistrue. And now you have sent him to her your own self; and, at sight ofher, I shall be nothing again. Well, when this ship goes down, they canmarry, and I hope he will be happy, happier than I can make him, thattried my best, God knows. "

This conversation surprised Staines not a little. However, he said, withgreat warmth, it was false. His wife had danced and flirted with someyoung gentleman at one time, when there was a brief misunderstandingbetween him and her, but sweetheart she had never had, except him. Hecourted her fresh from school. "Now, my good soul, " said he, "make yourmind easy; the ship is a good one, and well handled, and in no dangerwhatever, and my wife is in no danger from your husband. Since you andyour brother tell me that he is a villain, I am bound to believe you. But my wife is an angel. In our miserable hour of parting, she vowednot to marry again, should I be taken from her. Marry again! what am Italking of? Why, if he visits her at all, it will be to let her know Iam alive, and give her my letter. Do you mean to tell me she will listento vows of love from him, when her whole heart is in rapture for me?Such nonsense!"

This burst of his did not affront her, and did not comfort her. 

At last the wind abated; and after a wearisome calm, a light breezecame, and the schooner crept homeward. 

Phoebe restrained herself for several days; but at last she came back tothe subject; this time it was in an apologetic tone at starting. "I knowyou think me a foolish woman, " she said; "but my poor Reginald couldnever resist a pretty face; and she is so lovely; and you should haveseen how he turned when she came in to my place. Oh, sir, there has beenmore between them than you know of; and when I think that he willhave been in England so many months before we get there, oh, doctor, sometimes I feel as I should go mad; my head it is like a furnace, andsee, my brow is all wrinkled again. "

Then Staines tried to comfort her; assured her she was tormentingherself idly; her husband would perhaps have spent some of the diamondmoney on his amusement; but what if he had? he should deduct it out ofthe big diamond, which was also their joint property, and the loss wouldhardly be felt. "As to my wife, madam, I have but one anxiety; lesthe should go blurting it out that I am alive, and almost kill her withjoy. "

"He will not do that, sir. He is no fool. "

"I am glad of it; for there is nothing else to fear. "

"Man, I tell you there is everything to fear. You don't know him as Ido; nor his power over women. "

"Mrs. Falcon, are you bent on affronting me?"

"No, sir; Heaven forbid!"

"Then please to close this subject forever. In three weeks we shall bein England. "

"Ay; but he has been there six months. "

He bowed stiffly to her, went to his cabin, and avoided the poor foolishwoman as much as he could without seeming too unkind. 

CHAPTER XXVI. 

Mrs. Staines made one or two movements--to stop Lord Tadcaster--withher hand, that expressive feature with which, at such times, a sensitivewoman can do all but speak. 

When at last he paused for her reply, she said, "Me marry again! Oh! forshame!"

"Mrs. Staines--Rosa--you will marry again, some day. "

"Never. Me take another husband, after such a man as I have lost! Ishould be a monster. Oh, Lord Tadcaster, you have been so kind to me; sosympathizing. You made me believe you loved my Christopher, too; and nowyou have spoiled all. It is too cruel. "

"Oh! Mrs. Staines, do you think me capable of feigning--don't you see mylove for you has taken you by surprise? But how could I visit you--lookon you--hear you--mingle my regrets with yours; yours were the deepest, of course; but mine were honest. "

"I believe it. " And she gave him her hand. He held it, and kissed it, and cried over it, as the young will, and implored her, on his knees, not to condemn herself to life-long widowhood, and him to despair. 

Then she cried, too; but she was firm; and by degrees she made him seethat her heart was inaccessible. 

Then at last he submitted with tearful eyes, but a valiant heart. 

She offered friendship timidly. 

But he was too much of a man to fall into that trap. "No, " he said: "Icould not, I could not. Love or nothing. "

"You are right, " said she, pityingly. "Forgive me. In my selfishness andmy usual folly, I did not see this coming on, or I would have spared youthis mortification. "

"Never mind that, " gulped the little earl. "I shall always be proud Iknew you, and proud I loved you, and offered you my hand. "

Then the magnanimous little fellow blessed her, and left her, anddiscontinued his visits. 

Mr. Lusignan found her crying, and got the truth out of her. He was indespair. He remonstrated kindly, but firmly. Truth compels me to saythat she politely ignored him. He observed that phenomenon, and said, "Very well then, I shall telegraph for Uncle Philip. "

"Do, " said the rebel. "He is always welcome. "

Philip, telegraphed, came down that evening; likewise his little blackbag. He found them in the drawing-room: papa with the Pall Mall Gazette, Rosa seated, sewing, at a lamp. She made little Christie's clothesherself, --fancy that!

Having ascertained that the little boy was well, Philip, adroitly hidingthat he had come down torn with anxiety on that head, inquired with ashow of contemptuous indifference, whose cat was dead. 

"Nobody's, " said Lusignan crossly. Then he turned and pointed theGazette at his offspring. "Do you see that young lady stitching there sodemurely?"

Philip carefully wiped and then put on his spectacles. 

"I see her, " said he. "She does look a little too innocent. None of themare really so innocent as all that. Has she been swearing at the nurse, and boxing her ears?"

"Worse than that. She has been and refused the Earl of Tadcaster. "

"Refused him--what! has that little monkey had the audacity?"

"The condescension, you mean. Yes. "

"And she has refused him?"

"And twenty thousand a year. "

"What immorality!"

"Worse. What absurdity!"

"How is it to be accounted for? Is it the old story? 'I could neverlove him. ' No; that's inadequate; for they all love a title and twentythousand a year. "

Rosa sewed on all this time in demure and absolute silence. 

"She ignores us, " said Philip. "It is intolerable. She does notappreciate our politeness in talking at her. Let us arraign her beforeour sacred tribunal, and have her into court. Now, mistress, the Senateof Venice is assembled, and you must be pleased to tell us why yourefused a title and twenty thousand a year, with a small but symmetricalearl tacked on. "

Rosa laid down her work, and said quietly, "Uncle, almost the lastwords that passed between me and my Christopher, we promised each othersolemnly never to marry again till death should us part. You knowhow deep my sorrow has been that I can find so few wishes of my lostChristopher to obey. Well, to-day I have had an opportunity at last. Ihave obeyed my own lost one; it has cost me a tear or two; but, for allthat, it has given me one little gleam of happiness. Ah, foolish woman, that obeys too late!"

And with this the tears began to run. 

All this seemed a little too high-flown to Mr. Lusignan. "There, " saidhe, "see on what a straw her mind turns. So, but for that, you wouldhave done the right thing, and married the earl?"

"I dare say I should--at the time--to stop his crying. "

And with this listless remark she quietly took up her sewing again. 

The sagacious Philip looked at her gravely. He thought to himself howpiteous it was to see so young and lovely a creature, that had givenup all hope of happiness for herself. These being his real thoughts, he expressed himself as follows: "We had better drop this subject, sir. This young lady will take us potent, grave, and reverend seignors out ofour depth, if we don't mind. "

But the moment he got her alone he kissed her paternally, and said, "Rosa, it is not lost on me, your fidelity to the dead. As years rollon, and your deep wound first closes, then skins, then heals--"

"Ah, let me die first--"

"Time and nature will absolve you from that vow; but bless you forthinking this can never be. Rosa, your folly of this day has made you myheir; so never let money tempt you, for you have enough, and will havemore than enough when I go. "

He was as good as his word; altered his will next day, and made Rosa hisresiduary legatee. When he had done this, foreseeing no fresh occasionfor his services, he prepared for a long visit to Italy. He was packingup his things to go there, when he received a line from Lady CicelyTreherne, asking him to call on her professionally. As the lady'sservant brought it, he sent back a line to say he no longer practisedmedicine, but would call on her as a friend in an hour's time. 

He found her reclining, the picture of lassitude. "How good of you tocome, " she drawled. 

"What's the matter?" said he brusquely. 

"I wish to cawnsult you about myself. I think if anybody can brighten meup, it is you. I feel such a languaw--such a want of spirit; and I getpalaa, and that is not desiwable. "

He examined her tongue and the white of her eye, and told her, in hisblunt way, she ate and drank too much. 

"Excuse me, sir, " said she stiffly. 

"I mean too often. Now, let's see. Cup of tea in bed, of a morning?"

"Yaas. "

"Dinner at two?"

"We call it luncheon. "

"Are you a ventriloquist?"

"No. "

"Then it is only your lips call it luncheon. Your poor stomach, could itspeak, would call it dinner. Afternoon tea?"

"Yaas. "

"At seven-thirty another dinner. Tea after that. Your afflicted stomachgets no rest. You eat pastry?"

"I confess it. "

"And sugar in a dozen forms?"

She nodded. 

"Well, sugar is poison to your temperament. Now I'll set you up, if youcan obey. Give up your morning dram. "

"What dwam?"

"Tea in bed, before eating. Can't you see that is a dram? Animal foodtwice a day. No wine but a little claret and water; no pastry, nosweets, and play battledore with one of your male subjects. "

"Battledaw! won't a lady do for that?"

"No: you would get talking, and not play ad sudorem. "

"Ad sudawem! what is that?"

"In earnest. "

"And will sudawem and the west put me in better spiwits, and give me atinge?"

"It will incarnadine the lily, and make you the happiest young lady inEngland, as you are the best. "

"I should like to be much happier than I am good, if we could manage itamong us. "

"We will manage it AMONG us; for if the diet allowed should not make youboisterously gay, I have a remedy behind, suited to your temperament. Iam old-fashioned, and believe in the temperaments. "

"And what is that wemedy?"

"Try diet, and hard exercise, first. "

"Oh, yes; but let me know that wemedy. "

"I warn you it is what we call in medicine an heroic one. "

"Never mind. I am despewate. "

"Well, then, the heroic remedy--to be used only as a desperate resort, mind--you must marry an Irishman. "

This took the lady's breath away. 

"Mawwy a nice man?"

"A nice man; no. That means a fool. Marry scientifically--a precautioneternally neglected. Marry a Hibernian gentleman, a being as mercurialas you are lymphatic. "

"Mercurial!--lymphatic!"--

"Oh, hard words break no bones, ma'am. "

"No, sir. And it is very curious. No, I won't tell you. Yes, I will. HemI--I think I have noticed one. "

"One what?"

"One Iwishman--dangling after me. "

"Then your ladyship has only to tighten the cord--and HE'S done for. "

Having administered this prescription, our laughing philosopher wentoff to Italy, and there fell in with some countrymen to his mind, so heaccompanied them to Egypt and Palestine. 

His absence, and Lord Tadcaster's, made Rosa Staines's life extremelymonotonous. Day followed day, and week followed week, each so unvarying, that, on a retrospect, three months seemed like one day. 

And I think at last youth and nature began to rebel, and secretly tocrave some little change or incident to ruffle the stagnant pool. Yetshe would not go into society, and would only receive two or three dullpeople at the villa; so she made the very monotony which was beginningto tire her, and nursed a sacred grief she had no need to nurse, it wasso truly genuine. 

She was in this forlorn condition, when, one morning, a carriage droveto the door, and a card was brought up to her--"Mr. Reginald Falcon. "

Falcon's history, between this and our last advices, is soon disposedof. 

When, after a little struggle with his better angel, he rode past hiswife's gate, he intended, at first, only to go to Cape Town, sell thediamonds, have a lark, and bring home the balance: but, as he rodesouth, his views expanded. He could have ten times the fun in London, and cheaper; since he could sell the diamonds for more money, andalso conceal the true price. This was the Bohemian's whole mind in thebusiness. He had no designs whatever on Mrs. Staines, nor did he intendto steal the diamonds, but to embezzle a portion of the purchase-money, and enjoy the pleasures and vices of the capital for a few months;then back to his milch cow, Phoebe, and lead a quiet life till thenext uncontrollable fit should come upon him along with the means ofsatisfying it. 

On the way, he read Staines's letter to Mrs. Falcon, very carefully. Henever broke the seal of the letter to Mrs. Staines. That was to be givenher when he had broken the good news to her; and this he determined todo with such skill, as should make Dr. Staines very unwilling to looksuspiciously or ill-naturedly into money accounts. 

He reached London; and being a thorough egotist, attended first to hisown interests; he never went near Mrs. Staines until he had visitedevery diamond merchant and dealer in the metropolis; he showed the smallstones to them all but he showed no more than one large stone to each. 

At last he got an offer of twelve hundred pounds for the small stones, and the same for the large yellow stone, and nine hundred pounds for thesecond largest stone. He took this nine hundred pounds, and instantlywrote to Phoebe, telling her he had a sudden inspiration to bring thediamonds to England, which he could not regret, since he had never donea wiser thing. He had sold a single stone for eight hundred pounds, andhad sent the doctor's four hundred pounds to her account in Cape Town;and as each sale was effected, the half would be so remitted. She wouldsee by that, he was wiser than in former days. He should only stay solong as might be necessary to sell them all equally well. His own sharehe would apply to paying off mortgages on the family estate, of whichhe hoped some day to see her the mistress, or he would send it direct toher, whichever she might prefer. 

Now the main object of this artful letter was to keep Phoebe quiet, andnot have her coming after him, of which he felt she was very capable. 

The money got safe to Cape Town, but the letter to Phoebe miscarried. How this happened was never positively known; but the servant of thelodging-house was afterwards detected cutting stamps off a letter; soperhaps she had played that game on this occasion. 

By this means, matters took a curious turn. Falcon, intending to lullhis wife into a false security, lulled himself into that state instead. 

When he had taken care of himself, and got five hundred pounds to playthe fool with, then he condescended to remember his errand of mercy; andhe came down to Gravesend, to see Mrs. Staines. 

On the road, he gave his mind seriously to the delicate and dangeroustask. It did not, however, disquiet him as it would you, sir, or you, madam. He had a great advantage over you. He was a liar--a smooth, ready, accomplished liar--and he knew it. 

This was the outline he had traced in his mind: he should appear verysubdued and sad; should wear an air of condolence. But, after a while, should say, "And yet men have been lost like that, and escaped. A manwas picked up on a raft in those very latitudes, and brought into CapeTown. A friend of mine saw him, months after, at the hospital. Hismemory was shaken--could not tell his name; but in other respects he wasall right again. "

If Mrs. Staines took fire at this, he would say his friend knew all theparticulars, and he would ask him, and so leave that to rankle till nextvisit. And having planted his germ of hope, he would grow it, and waterit, by visits and correspondence, till he could throw off the mask, andsay he was convinced Staines was alive: and from that, by other degrees, till he could say, on his wife's authority, that the man picked up atsea, and cured at her house, was the very physician who had saved herbrother's life: and so on to the overwhelming proof he carried in theruby ring and the letter. 

I am afraid the cunning and dexterity, the subtlety and tact required, interested him more in the commission than did the benevolence. Hecalled, sent up his card, and composed his countenance for his part, like an actor at the Wing. 

"Not at home. "

He stared with amazement. 

The history of a "Not at home" is not, in general, worth recording: butthis is an exception. 

On receiving Falcon's card, Mrs. Staines gave a little start, andcolored faintly. She instantly resolved not to see him. What! the manshe had flirted with, almost jilted, and refused to marry--he dared tobe alive when her Christopher was dead, and had come there to show herHE was alive!

She said "Not at home" with a tone of unusual sharpness and decision, which left the servant in no doubt he must be equally decided at thehall door. 

Falcon received the sudden freezer with amazement. "Nonsense, " said he. "Not at home at this time of the morning--to an old friend!"

"Not at home, " said the man doggedly. 

"Oh, very well, " said Falcon with a bitter sneer, and returned toLondon. 

He felt sure she was at home; and being a tremendous egotist, he said, "Oh! all right. If she would rather not know her husband is alive, itis all one to me;" and he actually took no more notice of her for a fullweek, and never thought of her, except to chuckle over the penalty shewas paying for daring to affront his vanity. 

However, Sunday came; he saw a dull day before him, and so he relented, and thought he would give her another trial. 

He went down to Gravesend by boat, and strolled towards the villa. 

When he was about a hundred yards from the villa, a lady, all in black, came out with a nurse and child. 

Falcon knew her figure all that way off, and it gave him a curiousthrill that surprised him. He followed her, and was not very far behindher when she reached the church. She turned at the porch, kissed thechild earnestly, and gave the nurse some directions; then entered thechurch. 

"Come, " said Falcon, "I'll have a look at her, any way. "

He went into the church, and walked up a side aisle to a pillar, fromwhich he thought he might be able to see the whole congregation; and, sure enough, there she sat, a few yards from him. She was lovelier thanever. Mind had grown on her face with trouble. An angelic expressionilluminated her beauty; he gazed on her, fascinated. He drank and drankher beauty two mortal hours, and when the church broke up, and she wenthome, he was half afraid to follow her, for he felt how hard it wouldbe to say anything to her but that the old love had returned on him withdouble force. 

However, having watched her home, he walked slowly to and fro composinghimself for the interview. 

He now determined to make the process of informing her a very long one:he would spin it out, and so secure many a sweet interview with her:and, who knows? he might fascinate her as she had him, and ripengratitude into love, as he understood that word. 

He called, he sent in his card. The man went in, and came back with asonorous "Not at home. "

"Not at home? nonsense. Why, she is just come in from church. "

"Not at home, " said the man, evidently strong in his instructions. 

Falcon turned white with rage at this second affront. "All the worse forher, " said he, and turned on his heel. 

He went home, raging with disappointment and wounded vanity, and--sincesuch love as his is seldom very far from hate--he swore she should neverknow from him that her husband was alive. He even moralized. "This comesof being so unselfish, " said he. "I'll give that game up forever. "

By and by, a mere negative revenge was not enough for him, and he sethis wits to work to make her smart. 

He wrote to her from his lodgings:--

DEAR MADAM, --What a pity you are never at home to me. I had something tosay about your husband, that I thought might interest you. 

Yours truly, R. FALCON. 

Imagine the effect of this abominable note. It was like a rock flunginto a placid pool. It set Rosa trembling all over. What could he mean?

She ran with it to her father, and asked him what Mr. Falcon could mean. 

"I have no idea, " said he. "You had better ask him, not me. "

"I am afraid it is only to get to see me. You know he admired me once. Ah, how suspicious I am getting. "

Rosa wrote to Falcon:--

DEAR SIR, --Since my bereavement I see scarcely anybody. My servant didnot know you; so I hope you will excuse me. If it is too much trouble tocall again, would you kindly explain your note to me?

Yours respectfully, ROSA STAINES. 

Falcon chuckled bitterly over this. "No, my lady, " said he. "I'll serveyou out. You shall run after me like a little dog. I have got the bonethat will draw you. "

He wrote back coldly to say that the matter he had wished to communicatewas too delicate and important to put on paper; that he would try andget down to Gravesend again some day or other, but was much occupied, and had already put himself to inconvenience. He added, in a postscript, that he was always at home from four to five. 

Next day he got hold of the servant, and gave her minute instructions, and a guinea. 

Then the wretch got some tools and bored a hole in the partition wall ofhis sitting-room. The paper had large flowers. He was artist enoughto conceal the trick with water-colors. In his bed-room the hole camebehind the curtains. 

That very afternoon, as he had foreseen, Mrs. Staines called on him. Themaid, duly instructed, said Mr. Falcon was out, but would soon return, and could she wait his return? The maid being so very civil, Mrs. Staines said she would wait a little while, and was immediately usheredinto Falcon's sitting-room. There she sat down; but was evidently ill atease, restless, flushed. She could not sit quiet, and at last began towalk up and down the room, almost wildly. Her beautiful eyes glittered, and the whole woman seemed on fire. The caitiff, who was watching her, saw and gloated on all this, and enjoyed to the full her beauty andagitation, and his revenge for her "Not at homes. "

But after a long time, there was a reaction: she sat down and utteredsome plaintive sounds inarticulate, or nearly; and at last she began tocry. 

Then it cost Falcon an effort not to come in and comfort her; but hecontrolled himself and kept quiet. 

She rang the bell. She asked for writing paper, and she wrote her unseentormentor a humble note, begging him, for old acquaintance, to call onher, and tell her what his mysterious words meant that had filled herwith agitation. 

This done, she went away, with a deep sigh, and Falcon emerged, andpounced upon her letter. 

He kissed it; he read it a dozen times: he sat down where she had sat, and his base passion overpowered him. Her beauty, her agitation, herfear, her tears, all combined to madden him, and do the devil's workin his false, selfish heart, so open to violent passions, so dead toconscience. 

For once in his life he was violently agitated, and torn by conflictingfeelings: he walked about the room more wildly than his victim had; andif it be true that, in certain great temptations, good and bad angelsfight for a man, here you might have seen as fierce a battle of thatkind as ever was. 

At last he rushed out into the air, and did not return till ten o'clockat night. He came back pale and haggard, and with a look of crime uponhis face. 

True Bohemian as he was, he sent for a pint of brandy. 

So then the die was cast, and something was to be done that called forbrandy. 

He bolted himself in, and drank a wine-glass of it neat; then another;then another. 

Now his pale cheek is flushed, and his eye glitters. Drink forever!great ruin of English souls as well as bodies. 

He put the poker in the fire, and heated it red hot. 

He brought Staines's letter, and softened the sealing-wax with the hotpoker; then with his pen-knife made a neat incision in the wax, andopened the letter. He took out the ring, and put it carefully away. Thenhe lighted a cigar, and read the letter, and studied it. Many a man, capable of murder in heat of passion, could not have resisted the pathosof this letter. Many a Newgate thief, after reading it, would have feltsuch pity for the loving husband who had suffered to the verge of death, and then to the brink of madness, and for the poor bereaved wife, thathe would have taken the letter down to Gravesend that very night, thoughhe picked two fresh pockets to defray the expenses of the road. 

But this was an egotist. Good nature had curbed his egotism a littlewhile; but now vanity and passion had swept away all unselfish feelings, and the pure egotist alone remained. 

Now, the pure egotist has been defined as a man who will burn down hisNEIGHBOR'S house to cook HIMSELF an egg. Murder is but egotism carriedout to its natural climax. What is murder to a pure egotist, especiallya brandied one?

I knew an egotist who met a female acquaintance in Newhaven village. Shehad a one-pound note, and offered to treat him. She changed this note totreat him. Fish she gave him, and much whiskey. Cost her four shillings. He ate and drank with her, at her expense; and his aorta, or principalblood-vessel, being warmed with her whiskey, he murdered her for thechange, the odd sixteen shillings. 

I had the pleasure of seeing that egotist hung, with these eyes. It wasa slice of luck that, I grieve to say, has not occurred again to me. 

So much for a whiskied egotist. 

His less truculent but equally remorseless brother in villany, thebrandied egotist, Falcon, could read that poor husband's letter withoutblenching; the love and the anticipations of rapture, these made himwrithe a little with jealousy, but they roused not a grain of pity. Hewas a true egotist, blind, remorseless. 

In this, his true character, he studied the letter profoundly, andmastered all the facts, and digested them well. 

All manner of diabolical artifices presented themselves to his brain, barren of true intellect, yet fertile in fraud; in that, and all lowcunning and subtlety, far more than a match for Solomon or Bacon. 

His sinister studies were pursued far into the night. Then he went tobed, and his unbounded egotism gave him the sleep a grander criminalwould have courted in vain on the verge of a monstrous and deliberatecrime. 

Next day he went to a fashionable tailor, and ordered a complete suit ofblack. This was made in forty-eight hours; the interval was spent mainlyin concocting lies to be incorporated with the number of minute facts hehad gained from Staines's letter, and in making close imitations of hishandwriting. 

Thus armed, and crammed with more lies than the "Menteur" of Corneille, but not such innocent ones, he went down to Gravesend, all in deepmourning, with crape round his hat. 

He presented himself at the villa. 

The servant was all obsequiousness. Yes, Mrs. Staines received fewvisitors; but she was at home to HIM. He even began to falter excuses. "Nonsense, " said Falcon, and slipped a sovereign into his hand; "you area good servant, and obey orders. "

The servant's respect doubled, and he ushered the visitor into thedrawing-room, as one whose name was a passport. "Mr. Reginald Falcon, madam. "

Mrs. Staines was alone. She rose to meet him. Her color came and went, her full eye fell on him, and took in all at a glance--that he was allin black, and that he had a beard, and looked pale, and ill at ease. 

Little dreaming that this was the anxiety of a felon about to take theactual plunge into a novel crime, she was rather prepossessed by it. Thebeard gave him dignity, and hid his mean, cruel mouth. His black suitseemed to say he, too, had lost some one dear to him; and that was aground of sympathy. 

She received him kindly, and thanked him for taking the trouble to comeagain. She begged him to be seated; and then, womanlike, she waited forhim to explain. 

But he was in no hurry, and waited for her. He knew she would speak ifhe was silent. 

She could not keep him waiting long. "Mr. Falcon, " said she, hesitatinga little, "you have something to say to me about him I have lost. "

"Yes, " said he softly. "I have something I could say, and I think Iought to say it; but I am afraid: because I don't know what will be theresult. I fear to make you more unhappy. "

"Me! more unhappy? Me, whose dear husband lies at the bottom of theocean. Other poor wounded creatures have the wretched comfort of knowingwhere he lies--of carrying flowers to his tomb. But I--oh, Mr. Falcon, Iam bereaved of all: even his poor remains lost, --lost"--she could say nomore. 

Then that craven heart began to quake at what he was doing; quaked, yetpersevered; but his own voice quivered, and his cheek grew ashy pale. No wonder. If ever God condescended to pour lightning on a skunk, surelynow was the time. 

Shaking and sweating with terror at his own act, he stammered out, "Would it be the least comfort to you to know that you are not deniedthat poor consolation? Suppose he died not so miserably as you think?Suppose he was picked up at sea, in a dying state?"

"Ah!"

"Suppose he lingered, nursed by kind and sympathizing hands, that almostsaved him? Suppose he was laid in hallowed ground, and a great manytears shed over his grave?"

"Ah, that would indeed be a comfort. And it was to say this you came. Ithank you. I bless you. But, my good, kind friend, you are deceived. Youdon't know my husband. You never saw him. He perished at sea. "

"Will it be kind or unkind, to tell you why I think he died as I tellyou, and not at sea?"

"Kind, but impossible. You deceive yourself. Ah, I see. You found somepoor sufferer, and were good to him; but it was not my poor Christie. Oh, if it were, I should worship you. But I thank you as it is. It wasvery kind to want to give me this little, little crumb of comfort; forI know I did not behave well to you, sir: but you are generous, and haveforgiven a poor heart-broken creature, that never was very wise. "

He gave her time to cry, and then said to her, "I only wanted to be sureit WOULD be any comfort to you. Mrs. Staines, it is true I did noteven know his name; nor yours. When I met, in this very room, the greatdisappointment that has saddened my own life, I left England directly. Icollected funds, went to Natal, and turned land-owner and farmer. I havemade a large fortune, but I need not tell you I am not happy. Well, I had a yacht, and sailing from Cape Town to Algoa Bay, I picked upa raft, with a dying man on it. He was perishing from exhaustion andexposure. I got a little brandy between his lips, and kept him alive. Ilanded with him at once: and we nursed him on shore. We had to be verycautious. He improved. We got him to take egg-flip. He smiled on us atfirst, and then he thanked us. I nursed him day and night for ten days. He got much stronger. He spoke to me, thanked me again and again, andtold me his name was Christopher Staines. He told me that he shouldnever get well. I implored him to have courage. He said he did not wantfor courage; but nature had been tried too hard. We got so fond of eachother. Oh!"--and the caitiff pretended to break down; and his feignedgrief mingled with Rosa's despairing sobs. 

He made an apparent effort, and said, "He spoke to me of his wife, hisdarling Rosa. The name made me start, but I could not know it wasyou. At last he was strong enough to write a few lines, and he made mepromise to take them to his wife. "

"Ah!" said Rosa. "Show them me. "

"I will. "

"This moment. " And her hands began to work convulsively. 

"I cannot, " said Falcon. "I have not brought them with me. "

Rosa cast a keen eye of suspicion and terror on him. His not bringingthe letter seemed monstrous; and so indeed it was. The fact is, theletter was not written. 

Falcon affected not to notice her keen look. He flowed on, "The addresshe put on that letter astonished me. 'Kent Villa. ' Of course I knew KentVilla: and he called you 'Rosa. '"

"How could you come to me without that letter?" cried Rosa, wringing herhands. "How am I to know? It is all so strange, so incredible. "

"Don't you believe me?" said Falcon sadly. "Why should I deceive you?The first time I came down to tell you all this, I did not KNOW who Mrs. Staines was. I suspected; but no more. The second time I saw you in thechurch, and then I knew; and followed you to try and tell you all this;and you were not at home to me. "

"Forgive me, " said Rosa carelessly: then earnestly, "The letter! whencan I see it?"

"I will send, or bring it. "

"Bring it! I am in agony till I see it. Oh, my darling! my darling!It can't be true. It was not my Christie. He lies in the depths of theocean. Lord Tadcaster was in the ship, and he says so; everybody saysso. "

"And I say he sleeps in hallowed ground, and these hands laid himthere. "

Rosa lifted her hands to heaven, and cried piteously, "I don't know whatto think. You would not willingly deceive me. But how can this be?Oh, Uncle Philip, why are you away from me? Sir, you say he gave you aletter?"

"Yes. "

"Oh, why, why did you not bring it?"

"Because he told me the contents; and I thought he prized my poorefforts too highly. It did not occur to me you would doubt my word. "

"Oh, no: no more I do: but I fear it was not my Christie. "

"I'll go for the letter at once, Mrs. Staines. "

"Oh, thank you! Bless you! Yes, this minute!"

The artful rogue did not go; never intended. 

He rose TO GO; but had a sudden inspiration; very sudden, of course. "Had he nothing about him you could recognize him by?"

"Yes, he had a ring I gave him. "

Falcon took a black-edged envelope out of his pocket. 

"A ruby ring, " said she, beginning to tremble at his quiet action. 

"Is that it?" and he handed her a ruby ring. 

CHAPTER XXVII. 

Mrs. Staines uttered a sharp cry and seized the ring. Her eyes dilatedover it, and she began to tremble in every limb; and at last she sankslowly back, and her head fell on one side like a broken lily. Thesudden sight of the ring overpowered her almost to fainting. 

Falcon rose to call for assistance; but she made him a feeble motion notto do so. 

She got the better of her faintness, and then she fell to kissing thering, in an agony of love, and wept over it, and still held it, andgazed at it through her blinding tears. 

Falcon eyed her uneasily. 

But he soon found he had nothing to fear. For a long time she seemedscarcely aware of his presence; and when she noticed him, it was tothank him, almost passionately. 

"It was my Christie you were so good to: may Heaven bless you for it:and you will bring me his letter, will you not?"

"Of course I will. "

"Oh, do not go yet. It is all so strange: so sad. I seem to have lostmy poor Christie again, since he did not die at sea. But no, I amungrateful to God, and ungrateful to the kind friend that nursed him tothe last. Ah, I envy you that. Tell me all. Never mind my crying. Ihave seen the time I could not cry. It was worse then than now. I shallalways cry when I speak of him, ay, to my dying day. Tell me, tell meall. "

Her passion frightened the egotist, but did not turn him. He had gonetoo far. He told her that, after raising all their hopes, Dr. Staineshad suddenly changed for the worse, and sunk rapidly; that his lastwords had been about her, and he had said, "My poor Rosa, who willprotect her?" That, to comfort him, he had said he would protect her. Then the dying man had managed to write a line or two, and to addressit. Almost his last words had been, "Be a father to my child. "

"That is strange. "

"You have no child? Then it must have been you he meant. He spoke of youas a child more than once. "

"Mr. Falcon, I have a child; but born since I lost my poor child'sfather. "

"Then I think he knew it. They say that dying men can see all overthe world: and I remember, when he said it, his eyes seemed fixed verystrangely, as if on something distant. Oh, how wonderful all this is. May I see his child, to whom I promised"--

The artist in lies left his sentence half completed. 

Rosa rang, and sent for her little boy. 

Mr. Falcon admired his beauty, and said quietly, "I shall keep my vow. "

He then left her, with a promise to come back early next morning withthe letter. 

She let him go only on those conditions. 

As soon as her father came in, she ran to him with this strange story. 

"I don't believe it, " said he. "It is impossible. "

She showed him the proof, the ruby ring. 

Then he became very uneasy, and begged her not to tell a soul. He didnot tell her the reason, but he feared the insurance office would hearof it, and require proofs of Christopher's decease, whereas they hadaccepted it without a murmur, on the evidence of Captain Hamilton andthe Amphitrite's log-book. 

As for Falcon, he went carefully through Staines's two letters, andwherever he found a word that suited his purpose, he traced it by theusual process, and so, in the course of a few hours, he concocted ashort letter, all the words in which, except three, were facsimiles, only here and there a little shaky; the three odd words he hadto imitate by observation of the letters. The signature he got toperfection by tracing. 

He inserted this letter in the original envelope, and sealed it verycarefully, so as to hide that the seal had been tampered with. 

Thus armed, he went down to Gravesend. There he hired a horse and rodeto Kent Villa. 

Why he hired a horse, he knew how hard it is to forge handwriting, andhe chose to have the means of escape at hand. 

He came into the drawing-room, ghastly pale, and almost immediately gaveher the letter; then turned his back, feigning delicacy. In reality hewas quaking with fear lest she should suspect the handwriting. But theenvelope was addressed by Staines, and paved the way for the letter;she was unsuspicious and good, and her heart cried out for her husband'slast written words: at such a moment, what chance had judgment andsuspicion in an innocent and loving soul?

Her eloquent sighs and sobs soon told the caitiff he had nothing tofear. 

The letter ran thus:--

MY OWN ROSA, --All that a brother could do for a beloved brother, Falconhas done. He nursed me night and day. But it is vain. I shall never seeyou again in this world. I send you a protector, and a father to yourchild. Value him. He has promised to be your stay on earth, and myspirit shall watch over you. --To my last breath, your loving husband, CHRISTOPHER STAINES. 

Falcon rose, and began to steal on tiptoe out of the room. 

Rosa stopped him. "You need not go, " said she. "You are our friend. Byand by I hope I shall find words to thank you. "

"Pray let me retire a moment, " said the hypocrite. "A husband's lastwords: too sacred--a stranger:" and he went out into the garden. Therehe found the nursemaid Emily, and the little boy. 

He stopped the child, and made love to the nursemaid; showed her hisdiamonds--he carried them all about him--told her he had thirty thousandacres in Cape Colony, and diamonds on them; and was going to buy thirtythousand more of the government. "Here, take one, " said he. "Oh, youneedn't be shy. They are common enough on my estates. I'll tell youwhat, though, you could not buy that for less than thirty pounds at anyshop in London. Could she, my little duck? Never mind, it is no brighterthan her eyes. Now do you know what she will do with that, MasterChristie? She will give it to some duffer to put in a pin. "

"She won't do nothing of the kind, " said Emily, flushing all over. "She is not such a fool. " She then volunteered to tell him she had nosweetheart, and did not trouble her head about young men at all. Heinterpreted this to mean she was looking out for one. So do I. 

"No sweetheart!" said he; "and the prettiest girl I have seen since Ilanded: then I put in for the situation. "

Here, seeing the footman coming, he bestowed a most paternal kiss onlittle Christie, and saying, "Not a word to John, or no more diamondsfrom me;" he moved carefully away, leaving the girl all in a flutterwith extravagant hopes. 

The next moment this wolf in the sheep-fold entered the drawing-room. Mrs. Staines was not there. He waited, and waited, and began to getrather uneasy, as men will who walk among pitfalls. 

Presently the footman came to say that Mrs. Staines was with her father, in his study, but she would come to him in five minutes. 

This increased his anxiety. What! She was taking advice of an olderhead. He began to be very seriously alarmed, and, indeed, had prettywell made up his mind to go down and gallop off, when the door opened, and Rosa came hastily in. Her eyes were very red with weeping. She cameto him with both hands extended to him; he gave her his, timidly. She pressed them with such earnestness and power as he could not havesuspected; and thanked him, and blessed him, with such a torrent ofeloquence, that he hung his head with shame; and, being unable to faceit out, villain as he was, yet still artful to the core, he pretended toburst out crying, and ran out of the room, and rode away. 

He waited two days, and then called again. Rosa reproached him sweetlyfor going before she had half thanked him. 

"All the better, " said he. "I have been thanked a great deal too muchalready. Who would not do his best for a dying countryman, and fightnight and day to save him for his wife and child at home? If I hadsucceeded, then I would be greedy of praise: but now it makes me blush;it makes me very sad. "

"You did your best, " said Rosa tearfully. 

"Ah! that I did. Indeed, I was ill for weeks after, myself, through thestrain upon my mind, and the disappointment, and going so many nightswithout sleep. But don't let us talk of that. "

"Do you know what my darling says to me in my letter?"

"No. "

"Would you like to see it?"

"Indeed I should; but I have no right. "

"Every right. It is the only mark of esteem, worth anything, I can showyou. "

She handed him the letter, and buried her own face in her hands. 

He read it, and acted the deepest emotion. 

He handed it back, without a word. 

CHAPTER XXVIII. 

From this time Falcon was always welcome at Kent Villa. He fascinatedeverybody in the house. He renewed his acquaintance with Mr. Lusignan, and got asked to stay a week in the house. He showed Rosa and herfather the diamonds, and, the truth must be owned, they made Rosa's eyessparkle for the first time this eighteen months. He insinuated ratherthan declared his enormous wealth. 

In reply to the old man's eager questions, as the large diamonds layglittering on the table, and pointed every word, he said that a fewof his Hottentots had found these for him; he had made them dig on adiamondiferous part of his estate, just by way of testing the matter;and this was the result; this, and a much larger stone, for which he hadreceived eight thousand pounds from Posno. 

"If I was a young man, " said Lusignan, "I would go out directly, and digon your estate. "

"I would not let you do anything so paltry, " said "le Menteur. " "Why, mydear sir, there are no fortunes to be made by grubbing for diamonds; thefortunes are made out of the diamonds, but not in that way. Now, Ihave thirty thousand acres, and am just concluding a bargain for thirtythousand more, on which I happen to know there are diamonds in a slycorner. Well, of my thirty thousand tried acres, a hundred only arediamondiferous. But I have four thousand thirty-foot claims leased atten shillings per month. Count that up. "

"Why, it is twenty-four thousand pounds a year. "

"Excuse me: you must deduct a thousand a year for the expenses ofcollection. But this is only one phase of the business. I have a largeinn upon each of the three great routes from the diamonds to the coast;and these inns are supplied with the produce of my own farms. Mark theeffect of the diamonds on property. My sixty thousand acres, which arenot diamondiferous, will very soon be worth as much as sixty thousandEnglish acres, say two pounds the acre per annum. That is under themark, because in Africa the land is not burdened with poor-rates, tithes, and all the other iniquities that crush the English land-owner, as I know to my cost. But that is not all, sir. Would you believe it?even after the diamonds were declared, the people out there had solittle foresight that they allowed me to buy land all round PortElizabeth, Natal, and Cape Town, the three ports through which the worldget at the diamonds, and the diamonds get at the world. I have got agirdle of land round those three outlets, bought by the acre; in twoyears I shall sell it by the yard. Believe me, sir, English fortunes, even the largest, are mere child's play, compared with the colossalwealth a man can accumulate, if he looks beyond these great discoveriesto their consequences, and lets others grub for him. But what is the useof it all to me?" said this Bohemian, with a sigh. "I have no taste forluxuries; no love of display. I have not even charity to dispense on alarge scale; for there are no deserving poor out there; and the povertythat springs from vice, that I never will encourage. "

John heard nearly all this, and took it into the kitchen; andhenceforth Adoration was the only word for this prince of men, this rarecombination of the Adonis and the millionnaire. 

He seldom held such discourses before Rosa; but talked her father intoan impression of his boundless wealth, and half reconciled him to Rosa'srefusal of Lord Tadcaster, since here was an old suitor, who, doubtless, with a little encouragement, would soon come on again. 

Under this impression, Mr. Lusignan gave Falcon more than a littleencouragement, and, as Rosa did not resist, he became a constant visitorat the villa, and was always there from Saturday to Monday. 

He exerted all his art of pleasing, and he succeeded. He was welcome toRosa, and she made no secret of it. 

Emily threw herself in his way, and had many a sly talk with him, whilehe was pretending to be engaged with young Christie. He flattered her, and made her sweet on him, but was too much in love with Rosa, afterhis fashion, to flirt seriously with her. He thought he might want herservices: so he worked upon her after this fashion; asked her if shewould like to keep an inn. 

"Wouldn't I just?" said she frankly. 

Then he told her that, if all went to his wish in England, she should belandlady of one of his inns in the Cape Colony. "And you will get a goodhusband out there directly, " said he. "Beauty is a very uncommon thingin those parts. But I shall ask you to marry somebody who can help youin the business--or not to marry at all. "

"I wish I had the inn, " said Emily. "Husbands are soon got when a girlhasn't her face only to look to. "

"Well, I promise you the inn, " said he, "and a good outfit of clothes, and money in both pockets, if you will do me a good turn here inEngland. "

"That I would, sir. But, laws, what can a poor girl like me do for arich gentleman like you?"

"Can you keep a secret, Emily?"

"Nobody better. You try me, sir. "

He looked at her well; saw she was one of those who could keep a secret, if she chose, and he resolved to risk it. 

"Emily, my girl, " said he sadly, "I am an unhappy man. "

"You, sir! Why, you didn't ought to be. "

"I am then. I am in love; and cannot win her. "

Then he told the girl a pretty tender tale, that he had loved Mrs. Staines when she was Miss Lusignan, had thought himself beloved inturn, but was rejected; and now, though she was a widow, he had not thecourage to court her, her heart was in the grave. He spoke in such abroken voice that the girl's good-nature fought against her little piqueat finding how little he was smitten with HER, and Falcon soon foundmeans to array her cupidity on the side of her good-nature. He gave hera five-pound note to buy gloves, and promised her a fortune, and sheundertook to be secret as the grave, and say certain things adroitly toMrs. Staines. 

Accordingly, this young woman omitted no opportunity of dropping a wordin favor of Falcon. For one thing, she said to Mrs. Staines, "Mr. Falconmust be very fond of children, ma'am. Why, he worships Master Christie. "

"Indeed! I have not observed that. "

"Why, no, ma'am. He is rather shy over it; but when he sees us alone, heis sure to come to us, and say, 'Let me look at my child, nurse;' andhe do seem fit to eat him. Onst he says to me, 'This boy is my heir, nurse. ' What did he mean by that, ma'am?"

"I don't know. "

"Is he any kin to you, ma'am?"

"None whatever. You must have misunderstood him. You should not repeatall that people say. "

"No, ma'am; only I did think it so odd. Poor gentleman, I don't think heis happy, for all his money. "

"He is too good to be unhappy all his life. "

"So I think, ma'am. "

These conversations were always short, for Rosa, though she was too kindand gentle to snub the girl, was also too delicate to give the leastencouragement to her gossip. 

But Rosa's was a mind that could be worked upon, and these short butrepeated eulogies were not altogether without effect. 

At last the insidious Falcon, by not making his approaches in a way toalarm her, acquired her friendship as well as her gratitude; and, inshort, she got used to him and liked him. Not being bound by any limitof fact whatever, he entertained her, and took her out of herselfa little by extemporaneous pictures; he told her all his thrillingadventures by flood and field, not one of which had ever occurred, yethe made them all sound like truth; he invented strange characters, andset them talking; he went after great whales, and harpooned one, whichslapped his boat into fragments with one stroke of its tail; then died, and he hung on by the harpoon protruding from the carcass till aship came and picked him up. He shot a lion that was carrying offhis favorite Hottentot. He encountered another, wounded him with bothbarrels, was seized, and dragged along the ground, and gave himself upfor lost, but kept firing his revolver down the monster's throat till atlast he sickened him, and so escaped out of death's maw; he did NOT sayhow he had fired in the air, and ridden fourteen miles on end, at thebare sight of a lion's cub; but, to compensate that one reserve, plungedinto a raging torrent and saved a drowning woman by her long hair, whichhe caught in his teeth; he rode a race on an ostrich against a friend ona zebra, which went faster, but threw his rider, and screamed with rageat not being able to eat him; he, Falcon, having declined to run unlesshis friend's zebra was muzzled. He fed the hungry, clothed the naked, and shot a wild elephant in the eye; and all this he enlivened withpictorial descriptions of no mean beauty, and as like South Africa as ifit had been feu George Robins advertising that continent for sale. 

In short, never was there a more voluble and interesting liar by word ofmouth, and never was there a more agreeable creature interposed betweena bereaved widow and her daily grief and regrets. He diverted her mindfrom herself, and did her good. 

At last, such was the charm of infinite lying, she missed him on thedays he did not come, and was brighter when he did come and lie. 

Things went smoothly, and so pleasantly, that he would gladly haveprolonged this form of courtship for a month or two longer, sooner thanrisk a premature declaration. But more than one cause drove him to abolder course; his passion, which increased in violence by contact withits beautiful object, and also a great uneasiness he felt at not hearingfrom Phoebe. This silence was ominous. He and she knew each other, andwhat the other was capable of. He knew she was the woman to cross theseas after him, if Staines left the diggings, and any explanation tookplace that might point to his whereabouts. 

These double causes precipitated matters, and at last he began to throwmore devotion into his manner; and having so prepared her for a fewdays, he took his opportunity and said, one day, "We are both unhappy. Give me the right to console you. "

She colored high, and said, "You have consoled me more than all theworld. But there is a limit; always will be. "

One less adroit would have brought her to the point; but this artistonly sighed, and let the arrow rankle. By this means he out-fenced her;for now she had listened to a declaration and not stopped it short. 

He played melancholy for a day or two, and then he tried her anotherway. He said, "I promised your dying husband to be your protector, anda father to his child. I see but one way to keep my word, and that givesme courage to speak--without that I never could. Rosa, I loved you yearsago, I am unmarried for your sake. Let me be your husband, and a fatherto your child. "

Rosa shook her head. "I COULD not marry again. I esteem you, I am verygrateful to you: and I know I behaved ill to you before. If I couldmarry again, it would be you. But I cannot. Oh, never! never!"

"Then we both are to be unhappy all our days. "

"I shall, as I ought to be. You will not, I hope. I shall miss yousadly; but, for all that, I advise you to leave me. You will carry myeverlasting gratitude, go where you will; that and my esteem are all Ihave to give. "

"I will go, " said he; "and I hope he who is gone will forgive my want ofcourage. "

"He who is gone took my promise never to marry again. "

"Dying men see clearer. I am sure he wished--no matter; it is toodelicate. " He kissed her hand and went out, a picture of dejection. 

Mrs. Staines shed a tear for him. 

Nothing was heard of him for several days; and Rosa pitied him more andmore, and felt a certain discontent with herself, and doubt whether shehad done right. 

Matters were in this state, when one morning Emily came screaming infrom the garden, "The child!--Master Christie!--Where is he?--Where ishe?"

The house was alarmed. The garden searched, the adjoining paddock. Thechild was gone. 

Emily was examined, and owned, with many sobs and hysterical cries, thatshe had put him down in the summer-house for a minute, while she went toask the gardener for some balm, balm tea being a favorite drink of hers. "But there was nobody near that I saw, " she sobbed. 

Further inquiry proved, however, that a tall gypsy woman had been seenprowling about that morning; and suspicion instantly fastened on her. Servants were sent out right and left; but nothing discovered; and theagonized mother, terrified out of her wits, had Falcon telegraphed toimmediately. 

He came galloping down that very evening, and heard the story. Hegalloped into Gravesend, and after seeing the police, sent word out heshould advertise. He placarded Gravesend with bills, offering a rewardof a thousand pounds, the child to be brought to him, and no questionsasked. 

Meantime the police and many of the neighboring gentry came about themiserable mother with their vague ideas. 

Down comes Falcon again next day; tells what he has done, and treatsthem all with contempt. "Don't you be afraid, Mrs. Staines, " said he. "You will get him back. I have taken the sure way. This sort of roguesdare not go near the police, and the police can't find them. You have noenemies; it is only some woman that has fancied a beautiful child. Well, she can have them by the score, for a thousand pounds. "

He was the only one with a real idea; the woman saw it, and clung tohim. He left late at night. 

Next morning out came the advertisements, and he sent her a handful byspecial messenger. His zeal and activity kept her bereaved heart fromutter despair. 

At eleven that night came a telegraph:--

"I have got him. Coming down by special train. "

Then what a burst of joy and gratitude! The very walls of the houseseemed to ring with it as a harp rings with music. A special train, too!he would not let the mother yearn all night. 

At one in the morning he drove up with the child and a hired nurse. 

Imagine the scene! The mother's screams of joy, her furious kisses, hercooing, her tears, and all the miracles of nature at such a time. Theservants all mingled with their employers in the general rapture, andEmily, who was pale as death, cried and sobbed, and said, "Oh, ma'am, I'll never let him out of my sight again, no, not for one minute. "Falcon made her a signal, and went out. She met him in the garden. 

She was much agitated, and cried, "Oh, you did well to bring him to-day. I could not have kept it another hour. I'm a wretch. "

"You are a good kind girl; and here's the fifty pounds I promised you. "

"Well, and I have earned it. "

"Of course you have. Meet me in the garden to-morrow morning, and I'llshow you you have done a kind thing to your mistress, as well as me. Andas for the fifty pounds, that is NOTHING; do you hear? it is nothing atall, compared with what I will do for you, if you will be true to me, and hold your tongue. "

"Oh! as for that, my tongue shan't betray you, nor shame ME. You are agentleman, and I do think you love her, or I would not help you. "

So she salved her nursemaid's conscience--with the help of the fiftypounds. 

The mother was left to her rapture that night. In the morning Falcontold his tale. 

"At two P. M. A man had called on him, and had produced one of hisadvertisements, and had asked him if that was all square--no bobbies onthe lurk. 'All square, my fine fellow. ' 'Well, ' said he, 'I suppose youare a gentleman. ' 'I am of that opinion too. ' 'Well, sir, ' says he, 'I know a party as has FOUND a young gent as comes werry nigh youradvertisement. ' 'It will be a very lucky find to that party, ' I said, 'if he is on the square. ' 'Oh, WE are always on the square, when theblunt is put down. ' 'The blunt for the child, when you like, and whereyou like, ' said I. 'You are the right sort, ' said he. 'I am, ' replied I. 'Will you come and see if it is all right?' said he. 'In a minute, ' saidI. Stepped into my bedroom, and loaded my six-shooter. "

"What is that?" said Lusignan. 

"A revolver with six barrels: by the by, the very same I killed the lionwith. Ugh! I never think of that scene without feeling a little quiver;and my nerves are pretty good, too. Well, he took me into an awful partof the town, down a filthy close, into some boozing ken--I beg pardon, some thieves' public-house. "

"Oh, my dear friend, " said Rosa, "were you not frightened?"

"Shall I tell you the truth, or play the hero? I think I'll tell YOU thetruth. I felt a little frightened, lest they should get my money and mylife, without my getting my godson: that is what I call him now. Well, two ugly dogs came in, and said, 'Let us see the flimsies, before yousee the kid. '

"'That is rather sharp practice, I think, ' said I; 'however, here's theswag, and here's the watch-dog. ' So I put down the notes, and my handover them with my revolver cocked, and ready to fire. "

"Yes, yes, " said Rosa pantingly. "Ah, you were a match for them. "

"Well, Mrs. Staines, if I was writing you a novel, I suppose I shouldtell you the rogues recoiled; but the truth is they only laughed, andwere quite pleased. 'Swell's in earnest, ' said one, 'Jem, show thekid. ' Jem whistled, and in came a great tall black gypsy woman, with thedarling. My heart was in my mouth, but I would not let them see it. Isaid, 'It is all right. Take half the notes here, and half at the door. 'They agreed, and then I did it quick, walked to the door, took thechild, gave them the odd notes, and made off as fast as I could, hired anurse at the hospital--and the rest you know. "

"Papa, " said Rosa, with enthusiasm, "there is but one man in England whowould have got me back my child, and this is he. "

When they were alone, Falcon told her she had said words that gladdenedhis very heart. "You admit I can carry out one half of his wishes?" saidhe. 

Mrs. Staines said "Yes, " then colored high; then, to turn it off, said, "But I cannot allow you to lose that large sum of money. You must let merepay you. "

"Large sum of money!" said he. "It is no more to me than sixpence tomost people. I don't know what to do with my money; and I never shallknow, unless you will make a sacrifice of your own feelings to thewishes of the dead. O Mrs. Staines--Rosa, do pray consider that a man ofthat wisdom sees the future, and gives wise advice. Sure am I that, if you could overcome your natural repugnance to a second marriage, itwould be the best thing for your little boy--I love him already as ifhe were my own--and in time would bring you peace and comfort, and someday, years hence, even happiness. You are my only love; yet I shouldnever have come to you again if HE had not sent me. Do consider howstrange it all is, and what it points to, and don't let me have themisery of losing you again, when you can do no better now, alas! thanreward my fidelity. "

She was much moved at this artful appeal, and said, "If I was sure I wasobeying his will. But how can I feel that, when we both promised neverto wed again?"

"A man's dying words are more sacred than any other. You have hisletter. "

"Yes, but he does not say 'marry again. '"

"That is what he meant, though. "

"How can you say that? How can you know?"

"Because I put the words he said to me together with that short line toyou. Mind, I don't say that he did not exaggerate my poor merits; on thecontrary, I think he did. But I declare to you that he did hope I shouldtake care of you and your child. Right or wrong, it was his wish, sopray do not deceive yourself on that point. "

This made more impression on her than anything else he could say, andshe said, "I promise you one thing, I will never marry any man but you. "

Instead of pressing her further, as an inferior artist would, he brokeinto raptures, kissed her hand tenderly, and was in such high spirits, and so voluble all day, that she smiled sweetly on him, and thought toherself, "Poor soul! how happy I could make him with a word!"

As he was always watching her face--a practice he carried further thanany person living--he divined that sentiment, and wrought upon it so, that at last he tormented her into saying she would marry him SOME DAY. 

When he had brought her to that, he raged inwardly to think he had nottwo years to work in; for it was evident she would marry him in time. But no, it had taken him more than four months, close siege, to bringher to that. No word from Phoebe. An ominous dread hung over his ownsoul. His wife would be upon him, or, worse still, her brother Dick, who he knew would beat him to a mummy on the spot; or, worst of all, thehusband of Rosa Staines, who would kill him, or fling him into a prison. He MUST make a push. 

In this emergency he used his ally, Mr. Lusignan; he told him Mrs. Staines had promised to marry him, but at some distant date. This wouldnot do; he must look after his enormous interests in the colony, and hewas so much in love he could not leave her. 

The old gentleman was desperately fond of Falcon, and bent on the match, and he actually consented to give his daughter what Falcon called alittle push. 

The little push was a very great one, I think. 

It consisted in directing the clergyman to call in church the banns ofmarriage between Reginald Falcon and Rosa Staines. 

They were both in church together when this was done. Rosa all butscreamed, and then turned red as fire and white as a ghost, by turns. She never stood up again all the service; and in going home refusedFalcon's arm, and walked swiftly home by herself. Not that she had theslightest intention of passing this monstrous thing by in silence. Onthe contrary, her wrath was boiling over, and so hot that she knew sheshould make a scene in the street if she said a word there. 

Once inside the house she turned on Falcon, with a white cheek and aflashing eye, and said, "Follow me, sir, if you please. " She led theway to her father's study. "Papa, " said she, "I throw myself on yourprotection. Mr. Falcon has affronted me. "

"Oh, Rosa!" cried Falcon, affecting utter dismay. 

"Publicly--publicly: he has had the banns of marriage cried in thechurch, without my permission. "

"Don't raise your voice so loud, child. All the house will hear you. "

"I choose all the house to hear me. I will not endure it. I will nevermarry you now--never!"

"Rosa, my child, " said Lusignan, "you need not scold poor Falcon, for Iam the culprit. It was I who ordered the banns to be cried. "

"Oh! papa, you had no right to do such a thing as that. "

"I think I had. I exercised parental authority for once, and for yourgood, and for the good of a true and faithful lover of yours, whom youjilted once, and now you trifle with his affection and his interests. He loves you too well to leave you; yet you know his vast estates andinterests require supervision. "

"That for his vast estates!" said Rosa contemptuously. "I am not to bedriven to the altar like this, when my heart is in the grave. Don'tyou do it again, papa, or I'll get up and forbid the banns; affront foraffront. "

"I should like to see that, " said the old gentleman dryly. 

Rosa vouchsafed no reply, but swept out of the room, with burning cheeksand glittering eyes, and was not seen all day, would not dine with them, in spite of three humble, deprecating notes Falcon sent her. 

"Let the spiteful cat alone, " said old Lusignan. "You and I will dinetogether in peace and quiet. "

It was a dull dinner; but Falcon took advantage of the opportunity, impregnated the father with his views, and got him to promise to havethe banns cried next Sunday. He consented. 

Rosa learned next Sunday morning that this was to be done, and hercourage failed her. She did not go to church at all. 

She cried a great deal, and submitted to violence, as your true womenare too apt to do. They had compromised her, and so conquered her. Thepermanent feelings of gratitude and esteem caused a reaction after herpassion, and she gave up open resistance as hopeless. 

Falcon renewed his visits, and was received with the mere sullen languorof a woman who has given in. 

The banns were cried a third time. 

Then the patient Rosa bought laudanum enough to reunite her to herChristopher, in spite of them all; and having provided herself with thisresource, became more cheerful, and even kind and caressing. 

She declined to name the day at present, and that was awkward. Nevertheless the conspirators felt sure they should tire her out intodoing that, before long; for they saw their way clear, and she wasperplexed in the extreme. 

In her perplexity, she used to talk to a certain beautiful star shecalled her Christopher. She loved to fancy he was now an inhabitant ofthat bright star; and often on a clear night she would look up, and begfor guidance from this star. This I consider foolish: but then I am oldand sceptical; she was still young and innocent, and sorely puzzled toknow her husband's real will. 

I don't suppose the star had anything to do with it, except as afocus of her thoughts; but one fine night, after a long inspectionof Christopher's star, she dreamed a dream. She thought that a lovelywedding-dress hung over a chair, that a crown of diamonds as largeas almonds sparkled ready for her on the dressing-table, and she wasundoing her black gown, and about to take it off, when suddenly thediamonds began to pale, and the white satin dress to melt away, andin its place there rose a pale face and a long beard, and ChristopherStaines stood before her, and said quietly, "Is this how you keepyour vow?" Then he sank slowly, and the white dress was black, and thediamonds were jet; and she awoke, with his gentle words of remonstranceand his very tones ringing in her ear. 

This dream, co-operating with her previous agitation and misgivings, shook her very much; she did not come down-stairs till near dinner-time;and both her father and Falcon, who came as a matter of course to spendhis Sunday, were struck with her appearance. She was pale, gloomy, morose, and had an air of desperation about her. 

Falcon would not see it; he knew that it is safest to let her sex alonewhen they look like that; and then the storm sometimes subsides ofitself. 

After dinner, Rosa retired early; and soon she was heard walking rapidlyup and down the dressing-room. 

This was quite unusual, and made a noise. 

Papa Lusignan thought it inconsiderate; and after a while, remarkinggently that he was not particularly fond of sound, he proposed theyshould smoke the pipe of peace on the lawn. 

They did so; but after a while, finding that Falcon was not smoking, hesaid, "Don't let me detain you. Rosa is alone. "

Falcon took the hint, and went to the drawing-room. Rosa met him on thestairs, with a scarf over her shoulders. "I must speak to papa, " saidshe. "Where is he?"

"He is on the lawn, dear Rosa, " said Falcon, in his most dulcet tones. He was sure of his ally, and very glad to use him as a buffer to receivethe first shock. 

So he went into the drawing-room, where all the lights were burning, andquietly took up a book. But he did not read a line; he was too occupiedin trying to read his own future. 

The mean villain, who is incapable of remorse, is, of all men, mostcapable of fear. His villany had, to all appearance, reached the goal;for he felt sure that all Rosa's struggles would, sooner or later, succumb to her sense of gratitude and his strong will and patienttemper. But when the victory was won, what a life! He must fly withher to some foreign country, pursued from pillar to post by an enragedhusband, and by the offended law. And if he escaped the vindictive foea year or two, how could he escape that other enemy he knew, anddreaded--poverty? He foresaw he should come to hate the woman he wasabout to wrong, and she would instantly revenge herself, by making himan exile and, soon or late, a prisoner, or a pauper. 

While these misgivings battled with his base but ardent passion, strangethings were going on out of doors--but they will be best related inanother sequence of events, to which indeed they fairly belong. 

CHAPTER XXIX. 

Staines and Mrs. Falcon landed at Plymouth, and went up to town by thesame train. They parted in London, Staines to go down to Gravesend, Mrs. Falcon to visit her husband's old haunts, and see if she could find him. 

She did not find him; but she heard of him, and learned that he alwayswent down to Gravesend from Saturday till Monday. 

Notwithstanding all she had said to Staines, the actual informationstartled her, and gave her a turn. She was obliged to sit down, for herknees seemed to give way. It was but a momentary weakness. She was nowa wife and a mother, and had her rights. She said to herself, "My roguehas turned that poor woman's head long before this, no doubt. But Ishall go down and just bring him away by the ear. "

For once her bitter indignation overpowered every other sentiment, andshe lost no time, but late as it was went down to Gravesend, ordered aprivate sitting-room and bedroom for the night, and took a fly to KentVilla. 

But Christopher Staines had the start of her. He had already gone downto Gravesend with his carpet-bag, left it at the inn, and walked to KentVilla that lovely summer night, the happiest husband in England. 

His heart had never for one instant been disturbed by Mrs. Falcon'smonstrous suspicion; he looked on her as a monomaniac; a sensible womaninsane on one point, her husband. 

When he reached the villa, however, he thought it prudent to make surethat Falcon had come to England at all, and discharged his commission. He would not run the risk, small as he thought it, of pouncingunexpected on his Rosa, being taken for a ghost, and terrifying her, orexciting her to madness. 

Now the premises of Kent Villa were admirably adapted to what they callin war a reconnaissance. The lawn was studded with laurestinas and othershrubs that had grown magnificently in that Kentish air. 

Staines had no sooner set his foot on the lawn, than he heard voices;he crept towards them from bush to bush; and standing in impenetrableshade, he saw in the clear moonlight two figures--Mr. Lusignan andReginald Falcon. 

These two dropped out only a word or two at intervals; but what they didsay struck Staines as odd. For one thing, Lusignan remarked, "I supposeyou will want to go back to the Cape. Such enormous estates as yourswill want looking after. "

"Enormous estates!" said Staines to himself. "Then they must have grownvery fast in a few months. "

"Oh, yes, " said Falcon; "but I think of showing her a little of Europefirst. "

Staines thought this still more mysterious; he waited to hear more, butthe succeeding remarks were of an ordinary kind. 

He noticed, however, that Falcon spoke of his wife by her Christianname, and that neither party mentioned Christopher Staines. He seemedquite out of their little world. 

He began to feel a strange chill creep down him. 

Presently Falcon went off to join Rosa; and Staines thought it wasquite time to ask the old gentleman whether Falcon had executed hiscommission, or not. 

He was only hesitating how to do it, not liking to pounce in the darkon a man who abhorred everything like excitement, when Rosa herself cameflying out in great agitation. 

Oh! the thrill he felt at the sight of her! With all hisself-possession, he would have sprung forward and taken her in his armswith a mighty cry of love, if she had not immediately spoken words thatrooted him to the spot with horror. But she came with the words in hervery mouth; "Papa, I am come to tell you I cannot, and will not, marryMr. Falcon. "

"Oh, yes, you will, my dear. "

"Never! I'll die sooner. Not that you will care for that. I tell youI saw my Christopher last night--in a dream. He had a beard; but I sawhim, oh, so plain; and he said, 'Is this the way you keep your promise?'That is enough for me. I have prayed, again and again, to his star, for light. I am so perplexed and harassed by you all, and you make mebelieve what you like. Well, I have had a revelation. It is not my poorlost darling's wish I should wed again. I don't believe Mr. Falcon anymore. I hear nothing but lies by day. The truth comes to my bedside atnight. I will not marry this man. "

"Consider, Rosa, your credit is pledged. You must not be always jiltinghim heartlessly. Dreams! nonsense. There--I love peace. It is no useyour storming at me; rave to the moon and the stars, if you like, andwhen you have done, do pray come in, and behave like a rational woman, who has pledged her faith to an honorable man, and a man of vastestates--a man that nursed your husband in his last illness, found yourchild, at a great expense, when you had lost him, and merits eternalgratitude, not eternal jilting. I have no patience with you. "

The old gentleman retired in high dudgeon. 

Staines stood in the black shade of his cedar-tree, rooted to the groundby this revelation of male villany and female credulity. 

He did not know what on earth to do. He wanted to kill Falcon, but notto terrify his own wife to death. It was now too clear she thought hewas dead. 

Rosa watched her father's retiring figure out of sight. "Very well, "said she, clenching her teeth; then suddenly she turned, and looked upto heaven. "Do you hear?" said she, "my Christie's star? I am a poorperplexed creature. I asked you for a sign, and that very night I sawhim in a dream. Why should I marry out of gratitude? Why should I marryone man, when I love another? What does it matter his being dead? I lovehim too well to be wife to any living man. They persuade me, they coaxme, they pull me, they push me. I see they will make me. But I willoutwit them. See--see!" and she held up a little phial in the moonlight. "This shall cut the knot for me; this shall keep me true to my Christie, and save me from breaking promises I ought never to have made. Thisshall unite me once more with him I killed, and loved. "

She meant she would kill herself the night before the wedding, whichperhaps she would not, and perhaps she would. Who can tell? The weakare violent. But Christopher, seeing the poison so near her lips, wasperplexed, took two strides, wrenched it out of her hand, with a snarlof rage, and instantly plunged into the shade again. 

Rosa uttered a shriek, and flew into the house. 

The farther she got, the more terrified she became, and soon Christopherheard her screaming in the drawing-room in an alarming way. They werelike the screams of the insane. 

He got terribly anxious, and followed her. All the doors were open. 

As he went up-stairs, he heard her cry, "His ghost! his ghost! I haveseen his ghost! No, no. I feel his hand upon my arm now. A beard! and sohe had in the dream! He is alive. My darling is alive. You have deceivedme. You are an impostor--a villain. Out of the house this moment, or heshall kill you. "

"Are you mad?" cried Falcon. "How can he be alive, when I saw him dead?"

This was too much. Staines gave the door a blow with his arm, and strodeinto the apartment, looking white and tremendous. 

Falcon saw death in his face; gave a shriek, drew his revolver, andfired at him with as little aim as he had at the lioness; then made forthe open window. Staines seized a chair, followed him, and hurled itat him; and the chair and the man went through the window together, andthen there was a strange thud heard outside. 

Rosa gave a loud scream, and swooned away. 

Staines laid his wife flat on the floor, got the women about her, and atlast she began to give the usual signs of returning life. 

Staines said to the oldest woman there, "If she sees me, she will gooff again. Carry her to her room; and tell her, by degrees, that I amalive. "

All this time Papa Lusignan had sat trembling and whimpering in a chair, moaning, "This is a painful scene--very painful. " But at last an ideastruck him--"WHY, YOU HAVE ROBBED THE OFFICE!"

Scarcely was Mrs. Staines out of the room, when a fly drove up, and thiswas immediately followed by violent and continuous screaming close underthe window. 

"Oh, dear!" sighed Papa Lusignan. 

They ran down, and found Falcon impaled at full length on the spikes ofthe villa, and Phoebe screaming over him, and trying in vain to lifthim off them. He had struggled a little, in silent terror, but had thenfainted from fear and loss of blood, and lying rather inside the rails, which were high, he could not be extricated from the outside. 

As soon as his miserable condition was discovered, the servants ran downinto the kitchen, and so up to the rails by the area steps. Theserails had caught him; one had gone clean through his arm, the other hadpenetrated the fleshy part of the thigh, and a third pierced his ear. 

They got him off; but he was insensible, and the place drenched with hisblood. 

Phoebe clutched Staines by the arm. "Let me know the worst, " said she. "Is he dead?"

Staines examined him, and said "No. "

"Can you save him?"

"I?"

"Yes. Who can, if you cannot? Oh, have mercy on me!" and she went on herknees to him, and put her forehead on his knees. 

He was touched by her simple faith; and the noble traditions of hisprofession sided with his gratitude to this injured woman. "My poorfriend, " said he, "I will do my best, for YOUR sake. "

He took immediate steps for stanching the blood; and the fly carriedPhoebe and her villain to the inn at Gravesend. 

Falcon came to on the road; but finding himself alone with Phoebe, shammed unconsciousness of everything but pain. 

Staines, being thoroughly enraged with Rosa, yet remembering his solemnvow never to abuse her again, saw her father, and told him to tell herhe should think over her conduct quietly, not wishing to be harder uponher than she deserved. 

Rosa, who had been screaming, and crying for joy, ever since she came toher senses, was not so much afflicted at this message as one might haveexpected. He was alive, and all things else were trifles. 

Nevertheless, when day after day went by, and not even a line fromChristopher, she began to fear he would cast her off entirely; the moreso as she heard he was now and then at Gravesend to visit Mrs. Falcon atthe inn. 

While matters were thus, Uncle Philip burst on her like a bomb. "He isalive! he is alive! he is alive!" And they had a cuddle over it. 

"Oh, Uncle Philip! Have you seen him?"

"Seen him? Yes. He caught me on the hop, just as I came in from Italy. Itook him for a ghost. "

"Oh, weren't you frightened?"

"Not a bit. I don't mind ghosts. I'd have half a dozen to dinner everyday, if I might choose 'em. I couldn't stand stupid ones. But I say, his temper isn't improved by all this dying: he is in an awful rage withyou; and what for?"

"O uncle! what for? Because I'm the vilest of women!"

"Vilest of fiddlesticks! It's his fault, not yours. Shouldn't have died. It's always a dangerous experiment. "

"I shall die if he will not forgive me. He keeps away from me and fromhis child. "

"I'll tell you. He heard, in Gravesend, your banns had been cried: thathas moved the peevish fellow's bile. "

"It was done without my consent. Papa will tell you so; and, O uncle, if you knew the arts, the forged letter in my darling's hand, the way hewrought on me! O villain! villain! Uncle, forgive your poor silly niece, that the world is too wicked and too clever for her to live in. "

"Because you are too good and innocent, " said Uncle Philip. "There, don't you be down-hearted. I'll soon bring you two together again--acouple of ninnies. I'll tell you what is the first thing: you must comeand live with me. Come at once, bag and baggage. He won't show here, thesulky brute. "

Philip Staines had a large house in Cavendish Square, a crusty oldpatient, like himself, had left him. It was his humor to live in acorner of this mansion, though the whole was capitally furnished by hisjudicious purchases at auctions. 

He gave Rosa and her boy and his nurse the entire first floor, and toldher she was there for life. "Look here, " said he, "this last affair hasopened my eyes. Such women as you are the sweeteners of existence. Youleave my roof no more. Your husband will make the same discovery. Lethim run about, and be miserable a bit. He will have to come to book. "

She shook her head sadly. 

"My Christopher will never say a harsh word to me. All the worse for me. He will quietly abandon a creature so inferior to him. "

"Stuff!"

Now, she was always running to the window, in hope that Christopherwould call on his uncle, and that she might see him; and one day shegave a scream so eloquent, Philip knew what it meant. "Get you behindthat screen, you and your boy, " said he, "and be as still as mice. Stop!give me that letter the scoundrel forged, and the ring. "

This was hardly done, and Rosa out of sight, and trembling from headto foot, when Christopher was announced. Philip received him veryaffectionately, but wasted no time. 

"Been to Kent Villa yet?"

"No, " was the grim reply. 

"Why not?"

"Because I have sworn never to say an angry word to her again; and, ifI was to go there, I should say a good many angry ones. Oh, when I thinkthat her folly drove me to sea, to do my best for her, and that I wasnearer death for that woman than ever man was, and lost my reason forher, and went through toil and privations, hunger, exile, mainlyfor her, and then to find the banns cried in open church, with thatscoundrel!--say no more, uncle. I shall never reproach her, and neverforgive her. "

"She was deceived. "

"I don't doubt that; but nobody has a right to be so great a fool as allthat. "

"It was not her folly, but her innocence, that was imposed on. You aphilosopher, and not know that wisdom itself is sometimes imposed on, and deceived by cunning folly! Have you forgotten your Milton?--

 "'At Wisdom's gate, Suspicion sleeps, And deems no ill where no ill seems. '

"Come, come! are you sure you are not a little to blame? Did you writehome the moment you found you were not dead?"

Christopher colored high. 

"Evidently not, " said the keen old man. "Ah, my fine fellow! have Ifound the flaw in your own armor?"

"I did wrong, but it was for her. I sinned for her. I could not bear herto be without money, and I knew the insurance--I sinned for her. She hassinned AGAINST me. "

"And she had much better have sinned against God, hadn't she? He is moreforgiving than we perfect creatures that cheat insurance companies. Andso, my fine fellow, you hid the truth from her for two or three months. "

No answer. 

"Strike off those two or three months; would the banns have ever beencried?"

"Well, uncle, " said Christopher, hard pressed, "I am glad she has got achampion; and I hope you will always keep your eye on her. "

"I mean to. "

"Good-morning. "

"No; don't be in a hurry. I have something else to say, not soprovoking. Do you know the arts by which she was made to believe youwished her to marry again?"

"I wished her to marry again! Are you mad, uncle?"

"Whose handwriting is on this envelope?"

"Mine, to be sure. "

"Now, read the letter. "

Christopher read the forged letter. 

"Oh, monstrous!"

"This was given her with your ruby ring, and a tale so artful thatnothing we read about the devil comes near it. This was what did it. TheEarl of Tadcaster brought her title, and wealth, and love. "

"What, he too! The little cub I saved, and lost myself for--blank him!blank him!"

"Why, you stupid ninny! you forget you were dead; and he could not helploving her. How could he? Well, but you see she refused him. And why?because he came without a forged letter from YOU. Do you doubt her lovefor you?"

"Of course I do. She never loved me as I loved her. "

"Christopher, don't you say that before me, or you and I shall quarrel. Poor girl! she lay, in my sight, as near death for you as you were forher. I'll show you something. "

He went to a cabinet, and took out a silver paper; he unpinned it, andlaid Rosa's beautiful black hair upon her husband's knees. "Look atthat, you hard-hearted brute!" he roared to Christopher, who sat, anything but hard-hearted, his eyes filling fast, at the sad proof ofhis wife's love and suffering. 

Rosa could bear no more. She came out with her boy in her hand. "Ouncle, do not speak harshly to him, or you will kill me quite!"

She came across the room, a picture of timidity and penitence, with herwhole eloquent body bent forward at an angle. She kneeled at his knees, with streaming eyes, and held her boy up to him: "Plead for your poormother, my darling. She mourns her fault, and will never excuse it. "

The cause was soon decided. All Philip's logic was nothing, comparedwith mighty nature. Christopher gave one great sob, and took his darlingto his heart, without one word; and he and Rosa clung together, andcried over each other. Philip slipped out of the room, and left therestored ones together. 

I have something more to say about my hero and heroine, but must firstdeal with other characters, not wholly uninteresting to the reader, Ihope. 

Dr. Staines directed Phoebe Falcon how to treat her husband. Nomedicine, no stimulants; very wholesome food, in moderation, andthe temperature of the body regulated by tepid water. Under theseinstructions, the injured but still devoted wife was the real healer. He pulled through, but was lame for life, and ridiculously lame, for hewent with a spring halt, --a sort of hop-and-go-one that made the girlslaugh, and vexed Adonis. 

Phoebe found the diamonds, and offered them all to Staines, in expiationof his villany. "See, " she said, "he has only spent one. "

Staines said he was glad of it, for her sake, for he must be just to hisown family. He sold them for three thousand two hundred pounds; butfor the big diamond he got twelve thousand pounds, and I believe it wasworth double the money. 

Counting the two sums, and deducting six hundred for the stone Mr. Falcon had embezzled, he gave her over seven thousand pounds. 

She stared at him, and changed color at so large a sum. "But I have noclaim on that, sir. "

"That is a good joke, " said he. "Why, you and I are partners in thewhole thing--you and I and Dick. Was it not with his horse and rifle Ibought the big diamond? Poor dear, honest, manly Dick! No, the money ishonestly yours, Mrs. Falcon; but don't trust a penny to your husband. "

"He will never see it, sir. I shall take him back, and give him all hisheart can ask for, with this; but he will be little more than a servantin the house now, as long as Dick is single; I know that;" and she couldstill cry at the humiliation of her villain. 

Staines made her promise to write to him; and she did write him a sweet, womanly letter, to say that they were making an enormous fortune, andhoped to end their days in England. Dick sent his kind love and thanks. 

I will add, what she only said by implication, that she was happy afterall. She still contrived to love the thing she could not respect. Once, when an officious friend pitied her for her husband's lameness, shesaid, "Find me a face like his. The lamer the better; he can't run afterthe girls, like SOME. "

Dr. Staines called on Lady Cicely Treherne; the footman stared. He lefthis card. 

A week afterwards, she called on him. She had a pink tinge in hercheeks, a general animation, and her face full of brightness andarchness. 

"Bless me!" said he bluntly, "is this you? How you are improved!"

"Yes, " said she; "and I am come to thank you for your pwescwiption: Ifollowed it to the lettaa. "

"Woe is me! I have forgotten it. "

"You diwected me to mawwy a nice man. "

"Never: I hate a nice man. "

"No, no--an Iwishman: and I have done it. "

"Good gracious! you don't mean that! I must be more cautious in myprescriptions. After all, it seems to agree. "

"Admiwably. "

"He loves you?"

"To distwaction. "

"He amuses you?"

"Pwodigiously. Come and see. "

Dr. And Mrs. Staines live with Uncle Philip. The insurance money isreturned, but the diamond money makes them very easy. Staines followshis profession now under great advantages: a noble house, rent free; thecuriosity that attaches to a man who has been canted out of a ship inmid-ocean, and lives to tell it; and then Lord Tadcaster, married intoanother noble house, swears by him, and talks of him; so does LadyCicely Munster, late Treherne; and when such friends as these are warm, it makes a physician the centre of an important clientele; but hisbest friend of all is his unflagging industry, and his truly wonderfuldiagnosis, which resembles divination. He has the ball at his feet, andabove all, that without which worldly success soon palls, a happy home, a fireside warm with sympathy. 

Mrs. Staines is an admiring, sympathizing wife, and an admirablehousekeeper. She still utters inadvertencies now and then, commits newerrors at odd times, but never repeats them when exposed. Observingwhich docility, Uncle Philip has been heard to express a fear that, in twenty years, she will be the wisest woman in England. "But, thankheaven!" he adds, "I shall be gone before that. "

Her conduct and conversation afford this cynic constant food forobservation; and he has delivered himself oracularly at various stagesof the study: but I cannot say that his observations, taken as a whole, present that consistency which entitles them to be regarded as a bodyof philosophy. Examples: In the second month after Mrs. Staines came tolive with him, he delivered himself thus: "My niece Rosa is an anomaly. She gives you the impression she is shallow. Mind your eye: in onemoment she will take you out of your depth or any man's depth. She islike those country streams I used to fish for pike when I was young;you go along, seeing the bottom everywhere; but presently you come toa corner, and it is fifteen deep all in a moment, and souse you go overhead and ears: that's my niece Rosa. "

In six months he had got to this--and, mind you, each successive dogmawas delivered in a loud, aggressive tone, and in sublime oblivion of thepreceding oracle--"My niece Rosa is the most artful woman. (You may haw!haw! haw! as much as you like. You have not found out her little game--Ihave. ) What is the aim of all women? To be beloved by an unconscionablenumber of people. Well, she sets up for a simpleton, and so disarms allthe brilliant people, and they love her. Everybody loves her. Just youput her down in a room with six clever women, and you will see who isthe favorite. She looks as shallow as a pond, and she is as deep as theocean. "

At the end of the year he threw off the mask altogether. "The greatsweetener of a man's life, " said he, "is 'a simpleton. ' I shall not goabroad any more; my house has become attractive: I've got a simpleton. When I have a headache, her eyes fill with tender concern, and shehovers about me and pesters me with pillows: when I am cross with her, she is afraid I am ill. When I die, and leave her a lot of money, she will howl for months, and say I don't want his money: 'Iwaw-waw-waw-waw-want my Uncle Philip, to love me, and scold me. ' Oneday she told me, with a sigh, I hadn't lectured her for a month. 'I amafraid I have offended you, ' says she, 'or else worn you out, dear. 'When I am well, give me a simpleton, to make me laugh. When I amill, give me a simpleton to soothe me with her innocent tenderness. Asimpleton shall wipe the dews of death, and close my eyes: and when Icross the river of death, let me be met by a band of the heavenly host, who were all simpletons here on earth, and too good for such a hole, sonow they are in heaven, and their garments always white--because thereare no laundresses there. "

Arrived at this point, the Anglo-Saxon race will retire, grinning, tofresh pastures, and leave this champion of "a Simpleton, " to thunderparadoxes in a desert.