othing, let Isabel seal it. Show Mr. Hardyman in
here," she continued, turning to Isabel, "and then seal a letter of
mine which you will find on the table." "And when you have sealed it,"
careful Mr. Moody added, "put it back on the table; I will take charge
of it when her Ladyship has done with me."

Such were the special instructions which now detained Isabel in the
drawing-room. She lighted the taper, and closed and sealed the open
envelope, without feeling curiosity enough even to look at the address.
Mr. Hardyman was the uppermost subject in her thoughts. Leaving the
sealed letter on the table, she returned to the fireplace, and studied
her own charming face attentively in the looking-glass. The time
passed--and Isabel's reflection was still the subject of Isabel's
contemplation. "He must see many beautiful ladies," she thought,
veering backward and forward between pride and humility. "I wonder what
he sees in Me?"

The clock struck the hour. Almost at the same moment the boudoir-door
opened, and Robert Moody, released at last from attendance on Tommie,
entered the drawing-room.

CHAPTER V.

"WELL?" asked Isabel eagerly, "what does Mr. Hardyman say? Does he think
he can cure Tommie?"

Moody answered a little coldly and stiffly. His dark, deeply-set eyes
rested on Isabel with an uneasy look.

"Mr. Hardyman seems to understand animals," he said. "He lifted the
dog's eyelid and looked at his eyes, and then he told us the bath was
useless."

"Go on!" said Isabel impatiently. "He did something, I suppose, besides
telling you that the bath was useless?"

"He took a knife out of his pocket, with a lancet in it."

Isabel clasped her hands with a faint cry of horror. "Oh, Mr. Moody! did
he hurt Tommie?"

"Hurt him?" Moody repeated, indignant at the interest which she felt in
the animal, and the indifference which she exhibited towards the man
(as represented by himself). "Hurt him, indeed! Mr. Hardyman bled the
brute--"

"Brute?" Isabel reiterated, with flashing eyes. "I know some people, Mr.
Moody, who really deserve to be called by that horrid word. If you can't
say 'Tommie,' when you speak of him in my presence, be so good as to say
'the dog.'"

Moody yielded with the worst possible grace. "Oh, very well! Mr.
Hardyman bled the dog, and brought him to his senses directly. I am
charged to tell you--" He stopped, as if the message which he was
instructed to deliver was in the last degree distasteful t