that the physician who attended him could neither do anything for his malady, nor even account for it, or pronounce a diagnosis upon its character, bethought him of the man who had so completely cured Alice Goodwin.  Accordingly, on Greatrakes’s visit to Rathfillan, he waited upon him, and requested, as a personal favor, that he would come and see his dying son, for indeed Charles at that time was apparently not many days from death.  This distinguished and wealthy gentleman at once assented, and told Mr. Lindsay that he “would visit his sen the next day.

“I may not cure him,” said he, “because there are certain complaints which cannot be cured.  Such complaints I never attempt to cure; and even in others that are curable I sometimes fail.  But wherever there is a possibility of cure I rarely fail.  I am not proud of this gift; on the contrary, it has subdued my heart into a sense of piety and gratitude to God, who, in his mercy, has been pleased to make me the instrument of so much good to my fellow-creatures.”

Mr Lindsay returned home to his family in high spirits, and on his way to the house observed his stepson Woodward and Barney Casey at the door of the dog-kennel.

“I maintain the dog is wrong,” said Woodward, “and to me it seems an incipient case of hydrophobia.”

“And to me,” replied Barney, “it appears that his complaint is hunger, and that you have simply deprived him of his necessary food.”

At this moment Mr. Lindsay approached them, and exclaimed,—­

“Harry, let your honest and affectionate heart cheer up.  Valentine Greatrakes will be here to-morrow, and will cure Charles, as he cured Alice Goodwin, and then we will have them married; for if he recovers I am determined on it, and will abide no opposition from any quarter.  Indeed, Harry, your mother is now willing that they should be married, and is sorry that she ever opposed it.  Your mother, thank God, is a changed woman, and thank God the change is one that makes my very heart rejoice.”

“God be praised,” exclaimed Barney, “that is good news, and makes my heart rejoice nearly as much as yours.”

“Father,” said Woodward, “you have taken a heavy load off my mind.  Charles is certainly very ill, and until Greatrakes comes I shall make it a point to watch and nurse-tend him myself.”

“It is just what I would expect from your kind and affectionate heart, Harry,” replied Lindsay, rather slowly though, who then passed into the house to communicate the gratifying intelligence to his wife and daughter.

The intensity of Woodward’s malignity and villany was such that, as we have mentioned before, on some occasions he forgot himself into such a state of mind, and, what was worse, into such an expression of countenance, as, especially to Barney Casey, who so deeply suspected him, challenged observation.  After Lindsay had gone he put his hand to his chin, and said, still with caution,—­