to the taste than any other ingredient in his pharmacopoeia. Turning everybody else out of the room, he examined his patient alone--sounded the old man's vital organs, with ear and with stethoscope--talked to him now on his feelings, now on the news of the day, and then stepped out to Darrell.
"Something on the heart, my dear sir; I can't get at it; perhaps you can. Take off that something, and the springs will react, and my patient will soon recover. All about him sound as a rock--but the heart; that has been horribly worried; something worries it now. His heart may be seen in his eye. Watch his eye; it is missing some face it is accustomed to see."
Darrell changed colour. He stole back into Waife's room, and took the old man's hand. Waife returned the pressure, and said: "I was just praying for you--and--and--I am sinking fast. Do not let me die, sir, without wishing poor Sophy a last good-bye!"
Darrell passed back to the landing-place where George and Lionel were standing, while Dr. F------- was snatching a hasty refreshment in the library before his return to town. Darrell laid his hand on Lionel's shoulder. "Lionel, you must go back to London with Dr. F-------. I cannot keep you here longer. I want your room."
"Sir," said Lionel, aghast, "while Waife is still so ill! You cannot be thus unkind."
"Inconsiderate egotist! would you deprive the old man of a presence dearer to him than yours? George, you will go too, but you will return. You told me, yesterday, that your wife was in London for a few days; entreat her to accompany you hither; entreat her to bring with her the poor young lady whom my guest pines to see at his bedside--the face that his eye misses."
CHAPTER VII.
SOPHY, DARRELL, AND THE FLUTE-PLAYER. DARRELL. PREPARES A SURPRISE FOR WAIFE.
Sophy is come. She has crossed that inexorable threshold. She is a guest in the house which rejects her as a daughter. She has been there some days. Waife revived at the first sight of her tender face. He has left his bed;
