ne, is after all a very different thing from being involved
yourself in difficulty; a man's own life claims its rights.

Where the path went up the hill, Lenz left the Doctor, who only said:
"Wait at home, I will come to you later. How wonderfully close it is
this evening! I am sure we are going to have a rapid thaw."

"I sought aid far away, and after all it seems I am to find it at home.
There are still good men in the world, far better than yourself," said
Lenz to himself, as he went up the hill towards home.

CHAPTER XXX.
THE THAW EXTENDS EVEN TO PETROWITSCH, BUT
HE FREEZES AGAIN.

"I know why you are come," said Petrowitsch, when the Doctor entered;
"but sit down." He drew in a chair for him near the stove, where in
front there was a bright fire blazing, and behind a well heated stove.

"Now, what do I want, prophet?" said the Doctor, summoning up all his
wits.

"Money! you want money for my nephew!"

"You are only half a prophet, for I want a kindly heart also."

"Money, money, is the chief object. I will, however, at once say, I am
not one of those who charitably lift up a drunken man lying on the
road, and if he has broken his leg tell him he has only himself to
blame. I say this to you, because you are one of the few people whom I
respect in the world."

"Thank you for your good opinion; but a skilful physician must try to
heal injuries, whether deserved or undeserved."

"You are a doctor, and yet you have the same malady as the whole
country, indeed every one of our race."

The Doctor expressed his surprise at seeing him under so novel an
aspect. He had always, hitherto, thought that his misanthropy proceeded
from mere love of ease and indolence, but now he saw it was grounded on
a system.

"Will you sit an hour with me? This is my seventieth birthday."

"I wish you joy!"

"Thank you."

Petrowitsch sent his maid to Ibrahim, to say that he could not join
him, to play their usual game, for an hour; then he sat down beside the
Doctor, and said: "I feel myself today in a humour to be communicative.
I care nothing at all for what the world thinks of me; this log of wood
that I am now laying on the fire, cannot care less who burns it."

"It would interest me very much, however, if you would relate to me how
you have hardened into such a block of petrified wood."

Petrowitsch laughed, and the Doctor, though he knew ho