etting mixed up with
troubles. Neither do I know to what extent you have attempted to serve
me; but if you have put yourself out in any way for me or mine, I am
duly grateful, and stand ready, as you very well know, to liquidate your
claims with a check whenever you are prepared to receive it."

In justice to Mr. Hastings, be it said that he had drank a glass of
brandy just before this insulting speech, and its fumes were already
busy with his brain. Theodore made no sort of reply; his heart was too
heavy with a sickening dread of what was to come to be careful about
maintaining his own dignity--and, indeed, Mr. Hastings gave him very
little time, for he immediately added: "And now, as the doctor has
ordered absolute quiet, it is advisable for all who are not useful, to
absent themselves from the sick-room. Therefore, it would perhaps be
well for you to retire at once."

Theodore bowed gravely, and immediately left the room. Dora immediately
followed him--her cheeks were glowing, and her eyes were unusually
bright.

"Mr. Mallery," she began--speaking in a quick, excited tone--"I beg you
will not consider yourself grossly insulted. Papa does not mean--does
not know----" and she stopped in pitiful confusion.

Theodore spoke gently--"I am not offended, Miss Dora--your father is
excited, and withal does not understand me. But do not think that I have
deserted Pliny, or can desert him. And we will give ourselves
continually to prayer concerning him. Shall we not?"

The first tears that Dora had shed that day rolled down her cheeks; but
she only answered:

"I thank you _very_ much," and vanished.

Deprived thus suddenly of the privilege of doing for and watching over
his friend, Theodore bethought himself of the other sufferer, and sought
the room where he had been carried. He tapped lightly at the door, but
received no answer, and afraid to make further demonstrations, lest he
might disturb the sick one, he turned away. But a waiter just at that
moment flung open the door, and to his amazement, Theodore saw that the
room was empty!

"Where is Mr. Phillips?" he inquired, in surprise.

"They have taken him home, sir. Didn't you know it?"

"No, I did not," answered Theodore, shortly, and turned quickly away. In
spite of himself, a bitter feeling of almost rebellion possessed him.

"He is able to be carried home," he muttered, "while his partner in
trouble must toss in delirium--and _he_ was much the most to blame t