dreadful
price of bread, and the wicked scandal of her neighbours. But what most
completely set all suspicion at rest was the manner in which she spoke of
the debt which she owed him. "I cannot yet repay you what you advanced for
my medicines," she said, with all the natural embarrassment of an honest
debtor speaking to a creditor. "You will be wanting it, perhaps. Now don't
be angry at what I say--one is always in want of one's little money. In a
few days I will try and give you at least something on account."

"No," said the Doctor, when he was alone: "I can make nothing of it. Away
with all guesses!" He resolved to profit by the good fortune, be the giver
whom it might. And he hoped so to manage matters, that if, at a future
day, an opportunity for its restoration should occur, he should be able to
avail himself of it.

He was soon installed in a more convenient apartment, better furnished,
and supplied, above all, with a more abundant library. The young Doctor
was radiant with hope. Yet he did not quit his old quarter of the town. It
need not be said that he took formal leave of his first patient the
Countess.

From this time every thing prospered with him. As it generally happens,
the first difficulty conquered, every thing succeeded to his wish. It is
the first turn of the wheel which costs so much; once out of the rut, and
the carriage rolls. By degrees a little circle of clients was formed,
which augmented necessarily every day. His name began to spread. Even from
his old residence, where he led so solitary a life, the reputation had
followed him of a severe and laborious student, and the cure of the
Countess was a known proof of his skill.

Like the generality of the profession, he now divided his day into two
portions; the morning he devoted to his visits, the afternoon to the
reception of his patients. Returning to his home one day a little before
the accustomed hour, he perceived a crowd of persons collected in the
street through which he was passing. Perhaps some accident had happened,
and his presence might be useful. He made his way, therefore, through the
crowd. Yet he nowhere discovered any object which could have collected it.
He was merely surrounded on every side by groups engaged in earnest yet
subdued conversation. The greater part were women, and both men and women
were generally of a mature age, and of that sort of physiognomy which one
can only describe as _odd_--faces ready made for the penc