into significant menace by a sneer of unmistakable
triumph. I felt at once that he had succeeded in some machination
against me, and with ominous misgivings quickened my steps.

I found Mrs. Ashleigh seated alone in front of the house, under a large
cedar-tree that formed a natural arbour in the centre of the sunny lawn.
She was perceptibly embarrassed as I took my seat beside her.

"I hope," said I, forcing a smile, "that Mr. Vigors has not been telling
you that I shall kill my patient, or that she looks much worse than she
did under Dr. Jones's care?"

"No," she said. "He owned cheerfully that Lilian had grown quite strong,
and said, without any displeasure, that he had heard how gay she had
been, riding out and even dancing,--which is very kind in him, for he
disapproves of dancing, on principle."

"But still I can see he has said something to vex or annoy you; and, to
judge by his countenance when I met him in the lane, I should conjecture
that that something was intended to lower the confidence you so kindly
repose in me."

"I assure you not; he did not mention your name, either to me or to
Lilian. I never knew him more friendly; quite like old times. He is a
good man at heart, very, and was much attached to my poor husband."

"Did Mr. Ashleigh profess a very high opinion of Mr. Vigors?"

"Well, I don't quite know that, because my dear Gilbert never spoke to
me much about him. Gilbert was naturally very silent. But he shrank from
all trouble--all worldly affairs--and Mr. Vigors managed his estate, and
inspected his steward's books, and protected him through a long lawsuit
which he had inherited from his father. It killed his father. I don't
know what we should have done without Mr. Vigors, and I am so glad he
has forgiven me."

"Hem! Where is Miss Ashleigh? Indoors?"

"No; somewhere in the grounds. But, my dear Dr. Fenwick, do not leave me
yet; you are so very, very kind, and somehow I have grown to look upon
you quite as an old friend. Something has happened which has put me out,
quite put me out."

She said this wearily and feebly, closing her eyes as if she were indeed
put out in the sense of extinguished.

"The feeling of friendship you express," said I, with earnestness, "is
reciprocal. On my side it is accompanied by a peculiar gratitude. I am
a lonely man, by a lonely fireside, no parents, no near kindred, and in
this town, since Dr. Faber left it, without cordial intimacy till I knew
you. In ad