d.

It was impossible for him to proceed farther. The homoeopathist assisted
to undress and put him into bed. And having administered another of his
mysterious globules, he inquired of the landlady how far it was to the
nearest doctor,--for the inn stood by itself in a small hamlet. There
was the parish apothecary three miles off. But on hearing that the
gentlefolks employed Dr. Dosewell, and it was a good seven miles to his
house, the homoeopathist fetched a deep breath. The coach only stopped a
quarter of an hour.

"Cott!" said he, angrily, to himself, "the nux was a failure. My
sensibility is chronic. I must go through a long course to get rid of
it. Hollo, guard! get out my carpet-bag. I sha'n't go on to-night."

And the good man after a very slight supper went upstairs again to the
sufferer.

"Shall I send for Dr. Dosewell, sir?" asked the landlady, stopping him
at the door.

"Hum! At what hour to-morrow does the next coach to London pass?"

"Not before eight, sir."

"Well, send for the doctor to be here at seven. That leaves us at least
some hours free from allopathy and murder," grunted the disciple of
Hahnemann, as he entered the room.

Whether it was the globule that the homoeopathist had administered,
or the effect of nature, aided by repose, that checked the effusion of
blood, and restored some temporary strength to the poor sufferer, is
more than it becomes one not of the Faculty to opine. But certainly Mr.
Digby seemed better, and he gradually fell into a profound sleep, but
not till the doctor had put his ear to his chest, tapped it with his
hand, and asked several questions; after which the homoeopathist retired
into a corner of the room, and leaning his face on his hand seemed to
meditate. From his thoughts he was disturbed by a gentle touch. Helen
was kneeling at his feet. "Is he very ill, very?" said she; and her fond
wistful eyes were fixed on the physician's with all the earnestness of
despair.

"Your father is very ill," replied the doctor, after a short pause. "He
cannot move hence for some days at least. I am going to London; shall I
call on your relations, and tell some of them to join you?"

"No, thank you, sir," answered Helen, colouring. "But do not fear; I
can nurse Papa. I think he has been worse before,--that is, he has
complained more."

The homeopathist rose, and took two strides across the room; then he
paused by the bed, and listened to the breathing of the sleeping man.