ate, and this fact
removed a great load from Tom's heart. On this discovery his face
brightened up. "But, my dear aunt, is there really anything in it."

"Anything in what?" enquired the good lady, looking up from her
knitting, somewhat amused at the manner in which her nephew had put the
question.

"Why, I mean, is there any love affair, engagement or that sort of thing
between Julia and the Doctor?"

"Well, Tom, all I can say is, that Doctor Ashburnham seldom calls here
except during the time your sister is in London, or occasionally pays
us a visit to enquire when she is likely to be in town again. They have
met, I believe, in Devonshire, and he has visited her at the Willows. He
is certainly very attentive to her when she is with us, and she appears
to be anything but indifferent to his addresses; you can draw your own
conclusions from that, but, as I before stated, she will be here next
week and then, perhaps, she may take you into her confidence. I can say
no more on the matter."

"By George! I hope it is as you say. It would be a capital match for
her. He has a first rate practice, keeps quite a stylish turn out, and
occupies a handsome house in Cavendish Square. I must become more
intimate with him, and see if I cannot worm out exactly what he is
driving at." Here Tom took his hat, and started down stairs three steps
at a time, nearly upsetting the Doctor in the hall in his great hurry.
"Beg pardon, my dear sir, quite accidental I assure you; in haste to
speak to Mr. Cotterell in the library," said Tom apologetically.

"Don't mention it, pray, Mr. Barton," was the reply, as that gentleman
quickly ascended the staircase leading to the drawing room.

Now, Tom really had no business with Mr. Cotterell that evening, nor
would he have intruded on that worthy person, but for his encounter with
the Doctor. He would, he thought, not remain long with his aunt, and it
would be a good opportunity to push his enquiries, could he but manage
to go out with him. His anticipations proved correct. The Doctor did not
remain long up stairs, and our friend Tom managed to meet him again as
he was passing through the hall.

"Fine evening, sir; which way are you walking?" said Tom, seeing no
vehicle in attendance.

"I am returning to Cavendish Square, sir," was the ready reply.

"I also am going in that direction, and if you have no objection will
walk with you," returned Tom Barton. The two gentlemen walked together,
chatt