g at the Spa, has attended the captain hither, and declares
that he will restore him by infinitesimal doses of the same chemical
properties that were found in the waters which diseased him. Can there
be anything in such a theory?"

LEONARD.--"I once knew a very able, though eccentric homoeopathist, and
I am inclined to believe there may be something in the system. My friend
went to Germany; it may possibly be the same person who attends the
captain. May I ask his name?"

SQUIRE.--"Cousin Barnabas does not mention it. You may ask it of
himself, for here we are at his chambers. I say, Parson" (whispering
slyly), "if a small dose of what hurt the captain is to cure him, don't
you think the proper thing would be a--legacy? Ha! ha!"

PARSON (trying not to laugh).--"Hush, Squire. Poor human nature! We must
be merciful to its infirmities. Come in, Leonard."

Leonard, interested in his doubt whether he might thus chance again upon
Dr. Morgan, obeyed the invitation, and with his two companions followed
the woman, who "did for the captain and his rooms," across the small
lobby, into the presence of the sufferer.

CHAPTER III.

Whatever the disposition towards merriment at his cousin's expense
entertained by the squire, it vanished instantly at the sight of the
captain's doleful visage and emaciated figure.

"Very good in you to come to town to see me,--very good in you, cousin,
and in you, too, Mr. Dale. How very well you are both looking! I'm a sad
wreck. You might count every bone in my body."

"Hazeldean air and roast beef will soon set you up, my boy," said
the squire, kindly. "You were a great goose to leave them, and these
comfortable rooms of yours in the Albany."

"They are comfortable, though not showy," said the captain, with tears
in his eyes. "I had done my best to make them so. New carpets, this
very chair--(morocco!), that Japan cat (holds toast and muffins)--just
when--just when"--(the tears here broke forth, and the captain fairly
whimpered)--"just when that ungrateful, bad-hearted man wrote me word
'he was--was dying and lone in the world;' and--and--to think what I've
gone through for him;--and to treat me so! Cousin William, he has grown
as hale as yourself, and--and--"

"Cheer up, cheer up!" cried the compassionate squire. "It is a very hard
case, I allow. But you see, as the old proverb says, ''T is ill waiting
for a dead man's shoes;' and in future--I don't mean offence--but I
think if you