id
of in rheumatic fever, and the heart's as sound as a nut.'

Paul stretched feebly, and thought he had his jest wholly to himself;
but the doctor undeceived him.

'It wasn't always so, my young friend.'

Paul blushed like fire.

'Have I been babbling? he asked guiltily.

'A bit,' said the doctor; 'enough to justify those gloomy hopes of
yours.'

Paul hung his head in a transient shame, and murmured that he was sorry.

'Pooh, pooh!' cried the doctor; 'you're all right now. You can bear to
hear a little bit of news about the lady?'

'Yes,' said Paul, 'anything.'

'She's married,' said the doctor--'married to the Honourable Captain
MacMadden, and has left the stage.'

'Did she ever come to see me?' Paul asked.

'No,' said the doctor.

The passion of the youth went to join the calf-love of the boy, and the
man accomplished looked on them both with a half-humorous wonder. He was
learning his world, he thought. It would not be easy to fool him in that
way again.

He sat propped up with pillows in an arm-chair now, and could hold a
book; but the lubricant at his joints had all been licked up by the
fever, and it was slow to come back again, so that he had hideous
twinges when he moved. He had plenty of society now that he was fit for
it, for the fellow-boarders were idle during the day, and spared time to
sit and talk with him.

'You recognised old Darco when you saw him, didn't you?' one of them
asked.

'Oh yes,' said Paul, 'I knew him. What brought him here? I behaved very
badly toold Darco.'

'Well, to tell you the truth,' said the other, 'he said so. "Ant I nefer
forgive an incradidude," says he, and proved it by paying the doctor's
bill.'

Every man in the profession had a more or less plausible imitation of
old Darco's 'leedle beguliaridies.' He was as well known as the Strand,
and loved and hated as few men are.

'I treated Darco very badly,' said Paul. 'I can't rest under that sort
of obligation to him. How much did he pay?'

'You'd better ask the doctor.'

Paul asked the doctor next time he saw him, but elicited nothing.

'But I can't allow it,' Paul cried; 'I can't endure it I behaved
abominably to Darco; I behaved like a beast and a fool. I'd take his
scorn and hatred if he thought I was worth either; but I can't accept
his benefits after the way in which I served him. I left the kindest
friend I ever had, the man who took me out of the gutter--and that's
God's truth, doctor; and I le