nal ensign
at the surgery door, lighted the solitary little room, where he looked
in vain even for so much as a note or letter to bring some shadow of
human fellowship to his home; the fire smouldering dully, the big chair
turned with a sullen back against the wall, as if nobody ever sat
there--though Nettie had once and for ever appropriated it to her
use--everything in such inhuman trim and good order disgusted the doctor.
He rang his bell violently for the lights and refreshments which were
so slow of coming, and, throwing himself into that chair, bit his nails
and stared out at the lamplight in the rapid access of thought that
came upon him. The first thing that disturbed him in this was the
apparition of a figure outside peering in with some anxiety at the blank
windows--somebody who was evidently curious to know whether the doctor
had yet come home. The unhappy doctor started, and rang his bell once
more with furious iteration. He knew what was coming. Somebody else,
no doubt, had taken ill, without any consideration for young Rider's
dinner, which, however, a man must manage to swallow even when tormented
with importunate patients, and in love. But the knock of the untimely
visitor sounded at the much-assailed door before Mary, sulky and
resistant, had been able to arrange before the hungry doctor the
half-warm half-cold viands which his impatience would not permit to
be duly "heated up;" and he had just seated himself to dispose of the
unsatisfactory meal when the little groom, who was as tired as his
master, opened the door for Mrs Smith from St Roque's. Mrs Smith was a
familiar periodical visitor at Dr Rider's. She had not ceased to hold
to that hasty and unwise financial arrangement into which the doctor
was persuaded to enter when Fred's pipe had exasperated the landlady
into rebellion. He had supplemented the rent at that exciting moment
rather than have Nettie disturbed; and now that poor Fred's pipe was
extinguished for ever, the doctor still paid the imposition demanded
from him--half because he had no time to contest it, half because
it was, however improper and unnecessary, a kind of pleasure to do
something for Nettie, little as she knew and deeply as she would have
resented it. Dr Rider's brows cleared up at sight of Nettie's landlady.
He expected some little private anecdotes of her and her ways, such as
no one else could give him. He gave Mrs Smith a chair with a benignity
to which she had no person