shall come into the house."

There was no help for it now. I was obliged to tell him that Nugent had
left Browndown, and that I was the person who had sent him away.

For a moment, I was really in doubt whether the skilled hand of the great
surgeon would not be ignobly employed in boxing my ears. No perversion of
spelling can possibly report the complicated German-English jargon in
which his fury poured itself out on my devoted head. Let it be enough to
say that he declared Nugent's abominable personation of his brother to be
vitally important--so long as Oscar was absent--to his successful
treatment of the sensitive and excitable patient whom we had placed under
his care. I vainly assured him that Nugent's object in leaving Dimchurch
was to set matters right again by bringing his brother back. Grosse
flatly declined to allow himself to be influenced by any speculative
consideration of that sort. He said (and swore) that my meddling had
raised a serious obstacle in his way, and that nothing but his own tender
regard for Lucilla prevented him from "turning the coachmans back," and
leaving us henceforth to shift for ourselves.

When we reached the rectory gate, he had cooled a little. As we crossed
the garden, he reminded me that I stood pledged to be present when the
bandage was taken off.

"Now mind!" he said. "You are going to see, if it is goot or bad to tell
her that she has had those nice white arms of hers round the wrong
brodder. You are going to tell me afterwards, if you dare say to her, in
plain English words, 'Blue-Face is the man.'"

We found Lucilla in the sitting-room. Grosse briefly informed her that he
had nothing particular to occupy him in London, and that he had advanced
the date of his visit on that account. "You want something to do, my
lofe, on this soaky-rainy day. Show Papa-Grosse what you can do with your
eyes, now you have got them back again." With those words, he unfastened
the bandage, and, taking her by the chin, examined her eyes--first
without his magnifying glass; then with it.

"Am I going on well?" she asked anxiously.

"Famous-well! You go on (as my goot friends say in America) first-class.
Now use your eyes for yourself. Gif one lofing look to Grosse first.
Then--see! see! see!"

There was no mistaking the tone in which he spoke to her.

He was not only satisfied about her eyes--he was triumphant. "Soh!" he
grunted, turning to me. "Why is Mr. Sebrights not here to look at th