gained no news.  I asked if all were well there, and the simple, monosyllable, “Yes,” answered with unusual quickness and decision, was all that escaped the doctor’s lips.  He did not wish to be interrogated further, and was displeased.  I perceived this and was silent.  For some days, no mention was made of his dear friend the minister.  He was accustomed to speak often of that man, and most affectionately.  What was the inference?  A breach had taken place.  If I entertained the idea for a day, it was dissipated on the next; for the doctor, a week having elapsed since his last visit, rode over to the parsonage as usual, remained there some hours, and returned in his best and gayest spirits.  He spoke of the Fairmans during the evening with the same kind feeling and good-humour that had always accompanied his allusions to them and their proceedings, and grew at length eloquent in the praises of them both.  The increasing beauty of the young mistress, he said, was marvellous.  “Ah,” he added slyly, and with more truth, perhaps, than he suspected, “it would have done your eyes good to-day, only to have got one peep at her.”  I sighed, and he tantalized me further.  He pretended to pity me for the inconsiderate haste with which I had thrown up my employment, and to condole with me for all I had lost in consequence.  “As for himself,” he said, “he had, upon further consideration, given up all thought of marriage for the present.  He should live a little longer and grow wiser; but it was not a pleasant thing, by any means, to see so sweet a girl taken coolly off by a young fellow, who, if all he heard was true, was very likely to have an early opportunity.”  I sighed again, and asked permission to retire to rest; but my tormentor did not grant it, until he had spoken for half an hour longer, when he dismissed me in a state of misery incompatible with rest, in bed, or out of it.  My heart was bursting when I left him.  He could not fail to mark it.  To my surprise, he made another excursion to the parsonage on the following day; and, as before, he joined me in the evening with nothing on his lips but commendation of the young lady whom he had seen, and complaint at the cruel act which was about to rob them of their treasure; for he said, regardless of my presence or the desperate state of my feelings, “that the matter was now all but settled.  Fairman had made up his mind, and was ready to give his consent the very moment the young fellow was bold enough to ask it.  And lucky dog he is too,” added the kind physician, by way of a conclusion, “for little puss herself is over head and ears in love with him, or else I never made a right prognosis.”

“I am much obliged to you, sir,” I answered, when Doctor Mayhew paused; “very grateful for your hospitality.  If you please, I will depart to-morrow.  I trust you will ask me to remain no longer.  I cannot do so.  My business in London”——­

“Oh, very well! but that can wait, you know,” replied the doctor, interrupting me.  “I can’t spare you to-morrow.  I have asked a friend to dinner, and you must meet him.”