eye-doctor. The Boston people are not all clear-eyed, I hope."

"Not all,--I should say not all; perhaps you may be able to help me,
to begin with," said Mr. MacGentle, with a gleam of melancholy humor.
"I will ask Mr. Dyke about the chances for a practice he knows
everything. And, Balder," he added, when the young man rose to go,
"let me hear from you, and see you again sometimes, whatever may
happen to you in the way of fortune. I'm rather a lonely old man,--a
lonely old man, Balder."

"I'll be here again very soon, unless I get married, or commit a
murder or some such enormity," rejoined Helwyse, his long mustache
curling to, his smile. They shook hands,--the vigorous young god of
the sun and the faded old wraith of Brahmanism,--with a friendly look
into each other's eyes.

VI.

THE VAGARIES OF HELWYSE.

Balder Helwyse was a man full of natural and healthy instincts: he was
not afraid to laugh uproariously when so inclined; nor apt to
counterfeit so much as a smile, only because a smile would look well.
What showed a rarer audacity,--he had more than once dared to weep! To
crush down real emotions formed, in short, no part of his ideal of a
man. Not belonging to the Little-pot-soon-hot family, he had, perhaps,
never found occasion to go beyond the control of his temper, and blind
rage he would in no wise allow himself; but he delighted in
antagonisms, and though it came not within his rules to hate any man,
he was inclined to cultivate an enemy, as more likely to be
instructive than some friends. His love of actual battle was intense:
he had punched heads with many a hard-fisted school-boy in England; he
bore the scar of a German _schlaeger_ high up on his forehead; and
later, in Paris, he had deliberately invaded the susceptibilities of a
French journalist, had followed him to the field of honor, and been
there run through the body with a small-sword, to the satisfaction of
both parties. He was confined to his bed for a while; but his
overflowing spirits healed the wound to the admiration of his doctors.

These examples of self-indulgence have been touched upon only by way
of preparing the gentle reader for a shock yet more serious. Helwyse
was a disciple of Brillat-Savarin,--in one word, a gourmand! His
appetite never failed him, and, he knew how wisely to direct it. He
never ate a careless or thoughtless meal, be its elements simple as
they might. He knew and was loved by the foremost cooks all ove