d the young planter, colouring.

"Very well then, I will.--Then the fact is, Captain Bedford, my friend
Henley here is not satisfied with his land at Port Haven. He can sell
it advantageously to a new settler, and he has seen that tract next to
yours, one which, I agree with him, looks as if it was made for sugar.
Miss Henley, his sister, is on her way out to keep house for him, so he
will get one up as quickly as possible."

"Yes," said Henley, "that's right. Now tell 'em about yourself."

"Of course," said the doctor, quietly. "My sister is coming out with
Miss Henley, and I have elected to take up the tract yonder across the
river, adjoining yours."

"You?" said the captain. "Where will you get your patients?"

"Oh, I am sure to have some. Here's one already," he said, laughingly.
"I mean to dress that poor fellow's burns."

"Baal--no--baal," shouted Shanter, fiercely. "Big white Mary--soff rag,
plenty goosum greasum."

"Be quiet, Shanter," said Aunt Georgie, grimly.

"But," cried the captain. "Oh, it is absurd. You are throwing away
your chances."

"Not at all, sir. I don't see why a doctor should not have a farm."

"But really--" began the captain.

"One moment, sir," cried the doctor, interrupting; "will you come and
settle near your fellow-creatures?"

"You have heard my arguments, gentlemen. It is my duty to stay."

"Yes," said the doctor; "and in reply, Henley here and I say that it is
our duty as Englishmen to come and help to protect you and yours."

Uncle Jack and the captain rose together, and took the young men's
hands, and then the party left the table to stroll out into the garden,
upon as lovely an evening as ever shone upon this beautiful earth.

Every one looked happy, even Shanter, who was fast asleep; and as
Norman, who was alone with his brother and cousin, looked round at the
scene of peace and beauty, he could not help thinking that his father
had done well. But his thoughts were rudely interrupted by Rifle, who
threw himself on the grass, kicked up his heels, burst into a smothered
fit of laughter, and then sat up to wipe his eyes.

"Oh, what a game!" he cried.

"What's a game?" said Tim. "What's the matter, Man? Is there some
black on my nose?"

"No!" cried Rifle. "Why, you blind old mole, can't you see?"

"See what?"

"Why Mr Henley and the doctor want to come and live out here. Look."

"Well, what at? They're talking to Ida and Hetty. That's all."