also to
understand him, for he only blinked a few times up at his benefactor,
and then resigned himself to sleep.

"Your wife here," commenced the doctor, "complains of you, that you do
not think enough of your own concerns, you cure every body, even dogs
and cats, and receive nothing for it, for this dog as little as for the
former; have they not paid your bills yet?"

"I made none for them," said the old man with the driest gravity.

"Then I must make them out for you; you negligent fellow!" exclaimed
Vila vehemently: "What; write out prescriptions for nothing? truly you
degrade our whole art. Take this then on account of what the poor
sinners, the wounded, the beggar-train, and the oppressed race of
animals owe you up to the present."--He threw to the astonished and
perplexed individual a heavy purse of gold, and without waiting for his
thanks, he hastened out, and was already seated in the carriage before
the rustic practioner had recovered from his astonishment. The Lord of
Beauvais gazed with emotion after his rapidly departing friend.

CHAPTER VI.

The father went up to his daughter, who now awaked from her refreshing
sleep. The little girl, in a flood of tears threw herself into the arms
of the new comer, and was never weary of kissing his hands and cheeks:
it seemed as if it were a necessity for her to indulge this once, in an
unrestrained declaration, and expression of her love. "Man, indeed,"
thought the Lord of Beauvais within himself, "has nothing else but
these poor tokens, or the action of alleviating sorrow, and
administering food, clothing the naked, or affording warmth to the
freezing: perhaps it may be that in a future state spirits intermingle
in love." When both were more composed, the father said, "Eveline, you
have ever been a sensible child, but now you have an opportunity of
shewing it in deed for my safety; and for your own also. Never must a
word escape your lips here of our former residence of my friends, or of
your brother. When we are both quite alone, you may then talk of these
things, but below, or when anybody is present, you must ever be the
little cousin of our good hosts. Be therefore in company rather
perfectly quiet, or try to accommodate your behaviour for a short time
to these people; for your father's life depends on our not being
discovered and spied out in this place of concealment." "My dear, my
poor father," said Eveline, "all this