tly interposed.

"Come, now; none of that! If you were the king himself, you shouldn't
run away with my cart in that fashion; so you just get out of my place
as fast as you can!"

"My dear Kingsley, what are you about to do?" asked Ormiston, catching
his excited friend by the arm.

"Do!" exclaimed Sir Norman, in a high key. "Can't you see that for
yourself! And I'm going to have that girl cured of the plague, if there
is such a thing as a doctor to be had for love or money in London."

"You had better have her taken to the pest house at once, then; there
are chirurgeons and nurses enough there."

"To the pest-house! Why man, I might as well have her thrown into the
plague-pit there, at once! Not I! I shall have her taken to my own
house, and there properly cared for, and this good fellow will drive her
there instantly."

Sir Norman backed this insinuation by putting a broad gold-piece into
the driver's hand, which instantly produced a magical effect on his
rather surly countenance.

"Certainly, sir," he began, springing into his seat with alacrity.
"Where shall I drive the young lady to?"

"Follow me," said Sir Norman. "Come along, Ormiston." And seizing
his friend by the arm, he hurried along with a velocity rather
uncomfortable, considering they both wore cloaks, and the night was
excessively sultry. The gloomy vehicle and its fainting burden followed
close behind.

"What do you mean to do with her?" asked Ormiston, as soon as he found
breath enough to speak.

"Haven't I told you?" said Sir Norman, impatiently. "Take her home, of
course."

"And after that?"

"Go for a doctor."

"And after that?"

"Take care of her till she gets well."

"And after that?"

"Why--find out her history, and all about her."

"And after that?"

"After that! After that! How do I know what after that!" exclaimed Sir
Norman, rather fiercely. "Ormiston, what do you mean?"

Ormiston laughed.

"And after that you'll marry her, I suppose!"

"Perhaps I may, if she will have me. And what if I do?"

"Oh, nothing! Only it struck me you may be saving another man's wife."

"That's true!" said Sir Norman, in a subdued tone, "and if such should
unhappily be the case, nothing will remain but to live in hopes that he
may be carried off by the plague."

"Pray Heaven that we may not be carried off by it ourselves!" said
Ormiston, with a slight shudder. "I shall dream of nothing but that
horrible plague-pit for a week. If it we