sed this little favor, he reasoned to himself, all his
hopes in regard to inheriting the old gentleman's money, in time to
come, would be dashed. He would ask him for a small loan; and on the
very day this occurred to him he proceeded to put it into execution,
saying to himself:

"'He either fears his fate too much,
Or his deserts are small,
Who fears to put it to, the touch
To win or lose it all.'"

He knew that he should find the doctor in his study directly after
luncheon, and here he presented himself with some trepidation.

"Come in," called the doctor, in answer to his knock.

"Oh, it's _you_, is it, Harry?" he exclaimed, placing a chair for him,
which the young man took rather awkwardly.

"It is not often I trouble you in your study, sir," began Harry, "but I
have something of importance to say to you, and I beg that you will
pardon the intrusion. I chose a time when we will be least apt to be
interrupted."

"I wouldn't advise you to begin it if it will take long to tell," said
Mr. Bryan, "for we might be interrupted at any moment. I am expecting an
old friend, who is to accompany me on a horse-back ride. He ought to
have been here by this time."

Harry fidgeted nervously about in his chair. It required something of
an effort to make his request carelessly.

"You are the only one," he began, a little disconcertedly, "I feel sure,
who can help me in my present dilemma."

The old doctor wheeled suddenly around in his chair, and all in an
instant the object of the young man's visit flashed over his mind.

"To my mind he is come to tell me that he has fallen head over heels in
love with little Dorothy, and wants to marry her;" and with the thought
a broad smile crept up to the lips the white beard covered.

He had never been in love himself--but, for all that, he always
sympathized with young folks in their tender affairs of the heart, and
many a secret sigh escaped his lips for the lost opportunities of the
past.

"Well," he began, brusquely, "why don't you proceed, my boy?"

"It is such a delicate matter," began Kendal, "that I scarcely know how
to frame the words. You have always been so kind to me in the past, that
the remembrance of it has led me to dare hope that your goodness will
not desert me in the present emergency."

"Well," said the old gentleman, rather enjoying the young man's evident
discomfiture, "pray go on."

"The boon I have to ask," began Kendal, "will eith