tell me?"

"And his face bleeding," continued the merciless doctor.

"Oh dear! oh dear!" And the sweet eyes were turned, all swimming in
water upon Henry, with a look of angelic pity.

"His nerves were terribly shaken, but there were no bones broken. I said
to myself, 'He must sleep or go mad, and he will not sleep in the town
that has blown him up.' I just drove the patient off to peace and pure
air, and confided him to one of the best creatures in England--Martha
Dence."

Jael uttered an exclamation of wonder, which drew attention to her and
her glowing cheeks.

"Oh yes, Miss Jael," said Henry, "I was going to tell you. I have been a
fortnight with your people, and, if I live a hundred years, I shall not
forget their goodness to me. God bless them."

"'Twas the least they could do," said Jael, softly.

"What a pity you are going out. I should have liked to talk to you about
your father, and Martha, and George the blacksmith. Doctor, who would
live in a town after Cairnhope?"

Jael's fingers trembled at her bonnet-strings, and, turning a look of
piteous supplication on Grace, she faltered out, "If you please, miss,
might I stay over to-day?"

"Of course. And then he will tell you all about your people, and that
will do just as well as you going to see them; and better."

Off came Jael's bonnet with wonderful celerity.

"Get the whole story out of him," said Dr. Amboyne. "It is well worth
your attention. As for me, I must go as soon as I have prescribed for
you. What is the matter?"

"The matter is that there's nothing the matter; prescribe for that. And
that I'm a goose--prescribe for that--and don't read the newspapers;
prescribe for that."

"Well, then, I prescribe the Hillsborough Liberal. It has drawn a strong
picture of this outrage, and shown its teeth to the Trades. And, if I
might advise a lady of your age and experience, I would say, in
future always read the newspapers. They are, compared with books, what
machinery is compared with hand-labor. But, in this one instance, go to
the fountain-head, and ask Mr. Henry Little there, to tell you his own
tragedy, with all the ins and outs."

"Ah! if he would," said Grace, turning her eyes on Henry. "But he is not
so communicative to poor us. Is he, Jael?"

"No, miss."

"He never even told us his name. Did he, Jael?"

"No, miss. He is very close."

"Open him then," said the doctor. "Come, come, there are a pair of you;
and evidently disposed to