our faithful guide," he said, as he stood at the
gangway of the steamer; "and as for you, Lawrence effendi, may the
blessings spoken of by the patriarchs be with you in your goings out and
comings in, and may the God of your fathers give you that greatest of
his blessings, health."

Lawrence did not speak, but clung to the faithful hand till the Turk
descended into the boat; and he then stood gazing over the gangway till
the grave, thickly-bearded countenance grew less and less and at last
died from his sight.

The little party landed at Trieste, where they parted from the Chumleys,
who were going home; but Lawrence and his friends, after repairing the
damages to their wardrobes, went by rail to Rome, and made that their
home till the rigour of the English spring had passed away.

It was one fine morning at the beginning of June, that a cab laden with
luggage stopped at the old home in Guilford Street, where the door was
opened by Mrs Dunn, who stared with astonishment at the sturdy youth
who bounded up the steps into the hall, and then clasped her in his
arms.

"Why, my dear, dear boy!" she cried, "I had brought blankets down to
wrap you in, and a warm bath ready, and asked cook's husband to be in
waiting to carry you upstairs."

"Why, nurse, I could carry you up," cried Lawrence merrily. "How well
you look! Ah, Doctor Shorter."

"Why, you wicked young impostor," cried the doctor; "here have I
neglected two patients this afternoon on purpose to come and attend on
you. I came as soon as nurse Dunn told me she had received the telegram
from Folkestone. Bless my heart, how you have changed!"

"Changed, sir?" cried Mr Burne, "I should think he has changed. He has
been giving up physic, and trusting to the law, sir. See what we have
done!"

"Yes, doctor," said the professor, shaking hands warmly. "I think you
may give him up as cured."

"Cured? That he is!" cried the doctor. "Well, live and learn. I shall
know what to do with my next patient, now."

"And if here isn't Mrs Dunn crying with vexation, because she has no
occasion to make gruel and mix mustard plaisters for the poor boy,"
cried Mr Burne banteringly.

"No, no, no, sir," said the old woman sobbing; "it is out of the
thankfulness of my poor old heart at seeing my dear boy once more well
and strong."

The doctor took out his notebook, and made a memorandum as Lawrence
flung his arms round the tender-hearted old woman's neck; the professor