There was also another gentleman who found it convenient and agreeable to walk in the same direction and stop at the same house.  This for some time perplexed our friend, Tom, and gave him considerable uneasiness in the region of the heart.  His first business was to discover who he was; this did not take long to accomplish, but he was more puzzled than ever; there was no one ill at No. 54, and the gentleman turned out to be a physician of good standing, residing in Cavendish Square.  He dared not speak to Kate on the subject, for fear of committing himself and becoming exposed to that little lady’s raillery, for he well knew that she would torment him unmercifully if he betrayed the least sign of jealousy.  Wishing to be satisfied on a point that so troubled him, he determined to sound his aunt on the matter.  He was a great favourite with her, and she was not likely to betray him to his lady love.

“Very quiet, gentlemanly sort of person, Doctor Ashburnham; don’t you think so,” he enquired of his aunt one evening, as they were seated alone in the drawing room on Harley Street?

“It is well that you are that way of thinking, for he has the same opinion of you,” remarked Mrs. Cotterell with a quiet smile.  “Do you remember to have met him anywhere but in London?” she asked, after a few moments’ pause.

Tom shook his head and replied, “I think not, but perhaps I may have seen him somewhere.  I meet all sorts of people.”

“Well, well, your sister Julia is coming up to town some evening next week, and she is such a clever girl, perhaps she can enlighten you on the subject.”

Tom stared at his aunt for a moment, then the mist began to clear away.  It now struck him that he had never met the Doctor in Harley Street except during the time that his sister was on a visit there, and it also occurred to him now, that on his last flying visit to Devonshire he had met a gentleman much resembling Doctor Ashburnham, riding with Julia in one of the green lanes in Vellenaux.  It was all dear enough now, it was Julia’s lover who had given him so much concern of late, and this fact removed a great load from Tom’s heart.  On this discovery his face brightened up.  “But, my dear aunt, is there really anything in it.”

“Anything in what?” enquired the good lady, looking up from her knitting, somewhat amused at the manner in which her nephew had put the question.

“Why, I mean, is there any love affair, engagement or that sort of thing between Julia and the Doctor?”

“Well, Tom, all I can say is, that Doctor Ashburnham seldom calls here except during the time your sister is in London, or occasionally pays us a visit to enquire when she is likely to be in town again.  They have met, I believe, in Devonshire, and he has visited her at the Willows.  He is certainly very attentive to her when she is with us, and she appears to be anything but indifferent to his addresses; you can draw your own conclusions from that, but, as I before stated, she will be here next week and then, perhaps, she may take you into her confidence.  I can say no more on the matter.”