ried it--it's hard work taking
care of sick folks. Whose orchard is that?"

"Mrs. Bruce's."

"Is that her pear-tree?"

"Yes, sir."

"By George, Mrs. Bruce, I'll try your pears for you!"

As he spoke, the doctor, a man some sixty-five years of age, stout and
active, sprung over a stone wall, which separated them from the
orchard, and reached the foot of the tree almost at a bound.

As Gertrude watched the proceeding, she observed the doctor stumble over
some obstacle, and only saved himself from falling by stretching forth
both hands, and sustaining himself against the trunk of the tree. At the
same instant a head, adorned with a velvet smoking-cap, was slowly
lifted from the long grass, and a youth, about sixteen or seventeen
years of age, stared at the intruder.

Nothing daunted, the doctor at once took the offensive ground towards
the occupant of the place, saying, "Get up, lazy bones! What do you lie
there for, tripping up honest folks?"

"Whom do you call honest folks, sir?" inquired the youth, apparently
undisturbed by the doctor's epithet and inquiry. He showed much _sang
froid_.

"I call myself and my little friend here remarkably honest people,"
replied the doctor, winking at Gertrude, who, standing behind the wall
and looking over, was laughing at the way in which the doctor had got
caught. The young man turned, and gave a broad stare at Gertrude's merry
face.

"Can I do anything for you, sir?" asked he.

"Yes, certainly," replied the doctor. "I came here to help myself to
pears; but you are taller than I--perhaps, with the help of that
crooked-handled cane of yours, you can reach that best branch."

"A remarkably honourable and honest errand!" muttered the young man. "I
shall be happy to be engaged in so good a cause." And, drawing down the
branch, so that he could reach it with his hand, shook it vigorously.
The ripe fruit fell on every side; and the doctor, having filled his
pockets, and both his hands, started for the other side of the wall.

"Have you got enough?" asked the youth, in a very lazy tone of voice.

"Plenty, plenty," said the doctor.

"Glad of it," said the boy, indolently throwing himself on the grass,
and still staring at Gertrude.

"You must be very tired," said the doctor, stepping back a pace or two;
"I'm a physician, and should advise a nap."

"Are you, indeed!" replied the youth, in the same half-drawling,
half-ironical tone of voice; "then I think I'll take your ad