ate, sir," said Maria.

"Dengate? What does he want, Maria? Let him see Mrs Millett or Miss
Helen."

Maria looked scornfully at Dexter, as if he had injured her in some way.

"Which is what I said to him, sir. `Master's busy writing,' I says; but
he says his dooty, sir, and if you would see him five minutes he would
be greatly obligated."

The doctor said, "Send him in."

Maria left the room, and there was a tremendous sound of wiping shoes
all over the mat, although it was a dry day without, and the butcher's
boots were speckless.

Then there was another burst of wiping on the mat by the study door as a
finish off, a loud muttering of instructions to Maria, and the door was
opened to admit the butcher, looking hot and red, with his hat in one
hand, a glaring orange handkerchief in the other, with which he dabbed
himself from time to time.

"Good morning, Dengate," said the doctor; "what can I do for you?"

"Good morning, sir; hope you're quite well, sir. If you wouldn't mind,
sir, reading this letter, sir. Received this morning, sir. Sir James,
sir."

"Read it? ah, yes," said the doctor.

He ran through the missive and frowned.

"Well, Dengate," he said, "Sir James is a near neighbour and friend of
mine, and I don't like to interfere in these matters."

"No, sir, of course you wouldn't, sir, but as a gentleman, sir, as I
holds in the highest respect--a gentleman as runs a heavy bill with me."

"Hasn't your account been paid, Dengate!" said the doctor, frowning,
while Dexter looked hard at the butcher, and wondered why his face was
so red, and why little drops like beads formed all over his forehead.

"No, sir, it hasn't, sir," said the butcher, with a chuckle, "and I'm
glad of it. I never ask for your account, sir, till it gets lumpy. I
always leave it till I want it, for it's good as the bank to me, and I
know I've only to give you a hint like, and there it is."

"Humph!" ejaculated the doctor.

"What I have come about is them bullocks, sir, hearing as your young
lady, sir, and young shaver here--"

"Mr Dengate," said the doctor, frowning, "this young gentleman is my
adopted son."

"Beg pardon, sir, I'm sure," said the butcher obsequiously. "I had
heared as you'd had taken a boy from the--"

"Never mind that, Dengate," said the doctor shortly, as the butcher
dabbed himself hurriedly,--"business."

"Exactly, sir. Well, sir, it's like this here: I'm the last man in the
world to put da