ce was
restricted, and a fee gratified the vanity natural to unappreciated
talent, and had the charm of novelty, which is sweet to human nature
itself. Secondly, he was a man--

"Who knew his rights; and, knowing, dared maintain."

He had resigned a coach fare, stayed a night, and thought he had
relieved his patient. He had a right to his fee.

On the other hand, he paused, because, though he had small practice,
he was tolerably well off, and did not care for money in itself, and he
suspected his patient to be no Croesus.

Meanwhile the purse was in Helen's hand. He took it from her, and saw
but a few sovereigns within the well-worn network. He drew the child a
little aside.

"Answer me, my dear, frankly,--is your papa rich?--" And he glanced at
the shabby clothes strewed on the chair and Helen's faded frock.

"Alas, no!" said Helen, hanging her head. "Is that all you have?"

"All."

"I am ashamed to offer you two guineas," said Mr. Digby's hollow voice
from the bed.

"And I should be still more ashamed to take them. Good by, sir. Come
here, my child. Keep your money, and don't waste it on the other doctor
more than you can help. His medicines can do your father no good. But I
suppose you must have some. He's no physician, therefore there's no fee.
He'll send a bill,--it can't be much. You understand. And now, God bless
you."

Dr. Morgan was off. But, as he paid the landlady his bill, he said
considerately, "The poor people upstairs can pay you, but not that
doctor,--and he's of no use. Be kind to the little girl, and get
the doctor to tell his patient (quietly of course) to write to his
friends--soon--you understand. Somebody must take charge of the poor
child. And stop--hold your hand; take care--these globules for the
little girl when her father dies,"--here the doctor muttered to himself,
"grief,--aconite, and if she cries too much afterwards, these--(don't
mistake). Tears,--caustic!"

"Come, sir," cried the coachman.

"Coming; tears,--caustic," repeated the homoeopathist, pulling out his
handkerchief and his phial-book together as he got into the coach; and
he hastily swallowed his antilachrymal.

CHAPTER XIV.

Richard Avenel was in a state of great nervous excitement. He proposed
to give an entertainment of a kind wholly new to the experience of
Screwstown. Mrs. M'Catchley had described with much eloquence the
Dejeunes dansants of her fashionable friends residing in the elegant
subur