that Joe might be sent for. Joe came in, and, though he was much steadier than his master, looked as though he also had found some bin of which he had approved.
'Sir Louis wishes to go to bed,' said the doctor; 'you had better give him your arm.'
'Oh, yes; in course I will,' said Joe, standing immoveable about half way between the door and the table.
'I'll just take one more glass of the old port—eh, doctor?' said Sir Louis, putting out his hand and clutching the decanter.
It is very hard for any man to deny his guest in his own house, and the doctor, at the moment, did not know how to do it; so Sir Louis got his wine, after pouring half of it over the table.
'Come in, sir, and give Sir Louis your arm,' said the doctor, angrily.
'So I will, in course, if my master tells me; but, if you please, Dr. Thorne'—and Joe put his hand up to his hair in a manner that had a great deal more of impudence than reverence in it—'I just want to ax one question: where be I to sleep?'
Now this was a question which the doctor was not prepared to answer on the spur of the moment, however well Janet or Mary might have been able to do so.
'Sleep!' said he, 'I don't know where you are to sleep, and don't care; ask Janet.'
'That's all very well, master—'
'Hold your tongue, sirrah!' said Sir Louis. 'What the devil do you want of sleep?—come here,' and then, with his servant's help, he made his way up to his bedroom, and was no more heard of that night.
'Did he get tipsy?' asked Mary, almost in a whisper, when her uncle joined her in the drawing-room.
'Don't talk of it,' said he. 'Poor wretch! poor wretch! Let's have some tea now, Molly, and pray don't talk any more about him to-night.' Then Mary did make the tea, and did not talk any more about Sir Louis that night.
What on earth were they to do with him? He had come there self-invited; but his connection with the doctor was such, that it was impossible he should be told to go away, either he himself, or that servant of his. There was no reason to disbelieve him when he declared that he had come down to ferret out the squire. Such was, doubtless, his intention. He would ferret out the squire. Perhaps he might ferret out Lady Arabella also. Frank would be home in a few days; and he, too, might be ferreted out.
But the matter took a very singular turn, and one quite unexpected on the doctor's part. On the morning following the little
