palm close and open on the paltry sum; and the
third time the native instinct of the heart overcame the later impulse
of the profession. The limb of Galen drew back, and shaking with a
gentle oscillation his capitalian honours, he laid the money softly on
the table, and buttoning up the pouch of his nether garment, as if to
resist temptation, he pressed the poor hand still extended towards him,
and bowing over it with a kind respect for which I did long to approach
and kiss his most withered and undainty cheek, he turned quickly round,
and almost fell against me in the abstracted hurry of his exit.

"Hush!" said I, softly. "What hope of your patient?"

The leech glanced at me meaningly, and I whispered to him to wait for
me below. Isora had not yet seen me. It is a notable distinction in the
feelings, that all but the solitary one of grief sharpen into exquisite
edge the keenness of the senses, but grief blunts them to a most dull
obtuseness. I hesitated now to come forward; and so I stood, hat in
hand, by the door, and not knowing that the tears streamed down my
cheeks as I fixed my gaze upon Isora. She too stood still, just where
the leech had left her, with her eyes fixed upon the ground, and her
head drooping. The right hand, which the man had pressed, had sunk
slowly and heavily by her side, with the small snowy fingers half closed
over the palm. There is no describing the despondency which the listless
position of that hand spoke, and the left hand lay with a like indolence
of sorrow on the table, with one finger outstretched and pointing
towards the phials, just as it bad, some moments before, seconded
the injunctions of the prim physician. Well, for my part, if I were a
painter I would come now and then to a sick chamber for a study.

At last Isora, with a very quiet gesture of self-recovery, moved towards
the bed, and the next moment I was by her side. If my life depended on
it, I could not write one, no, not _one_ syllable more of this scene.

CHAPTER XI.

CONTAINING MORE THAN ANY OTHER CHAPTER IN THE SECOND BOOK OF THIS
HISTORY.

MY first proposal was to remove the patient, with all due care and
gentleness, to a better lodging, and a district more convenient for the
visits of the most eminent physicians. When I expressed this wish to
Isora, she looked at me long and wistfully, and then burst into tears.
"_You_ will not deceive us," said she, "and I accept your kindness at
once,--from _him_ I reject