who did not submit to his
dictation; and he would bring in a stranger to ruin them all!'

Little did Henry know of Dr. May's near approach to untruth in denying
that he had a house to let to the opposition surgeon--of his
attestations to his daughter that young Ward was a skilful operator--or
of his vexation when she professed herself ready to undergo anything
for his pleasure, but said that little Margaret's health was another
thing.

Yet even this might have been forgiven, but for that worst rub of
all--Tom May's manners. His politeness was intense--most punctilious
and condescending in form--and yet provoking beyond measure to persons
who, like Henry and Averil, had not playfulness enough to detect with
certainty whether they were being made game of or not, nor whether his
smoothly-uttered compliments were not innuendoes. Henry was certain of
being despised, and naturally chafed against the prospect of the future
connection between the two medical men of the town; and though Tom was
gone back to Cambridge, it was the rankling remembrance of his
supercilious looks that, more than any present offence or independence
of spirit, made the young surgeon kick against direction from the
physician. Here, too, Averil was of the same mind. She had heard Tom
May observe that his sister Gertrude would play quite well enough for a
lady; for the mission of a lady's music was to put one to sleep at
home, and cover conversation at a party; as to the
rest--unprofessionals were a mistake!

After that, the civil speeches with which Tom would approach the piano
only added insult to injury.

CHAPTER VIII

Ne'er readier at alarm-bell's call,
Thy burghers rose to man thy wall,
Than now in danger shall be thine,
Thy dauntless voluntary line.--Marmion

'Drive fast, Will,' said Dr. May, hastily stepping into his carriage in
the early darkness of a December evening. 'Five already, and he is to
be there by 5.25.'

'He' was no other than Harry May, and 'there' was the station. With
the tidings of the terrible fight of Peiho had come a letter from a
messmate of Harry's with an account of his serious wound in the chest,
describing it as just short of immediately dangerous. Another letter
had notified his amendment, and that he was invalided home, a few
cheery words from Harry himself scrawled at the end showing that his
power was far less than his good-will: and after two months' waiting
and suspense, a telegram had