uld have a
chance for his _life_--eh? and _neither_ will the doctors who have him
in hands allow him. Now, Madam, there's a simple operation, called
trepanning, you have heard of it, which would afford him such a chance,
but fearing its failure they won't try it, although they allege that
without it _he must die_, d'ye see?--ay, _die he must_, without a cast
for his life if you won't try it.'

And so, by harping on the alternatives, and demonstrating the prudence,
humanity, and duty of action, and the inevitably fatal consequences of
the other course, he wrought upon her at last to write a note to Surgeon
Dillon to come out on the evening following, and to perform the
operation. The dreadful word 'to-day,' the poor little woman could not
abide. She pleaded for a respite, and so, half-distracted, fixed
to-morrow.

'I hope, my dear Madam, you've some little confidence in me. I think I
have shown an interest, and I've striven to be of use.'

'Oh, Sir, Mr. Dangerfield, you've been too good, our guardian angel; but
for you, Sir, we should not have had a roof over our heads, or a bed to
lie on; oh! may--'

'Well, Ma'am, you please to speak too highly of my small services; but I
would plead them, humble as they are, as a claim on your confidence, and
having decided upon this wise and necessary course, pray do not say a
word about it to anybody but myself. I will go to town, and arrange for
the doctor's visit, and you'll soon, I hope, have real grounds for
gratitude, not to me, Ma'am, but to Heaven.'

CHAPTER LXXXII.

IN WHICH MR. PAUL DANGERFIELD PAYS HIS RESPECTS AND COMPLIMENTS AT
BELMONT; WHERE OTHER VISITORS ALSO PRESENT THEMSELVES.

Before going to town, Mr. Dangerfield, riding over the bridge and up the
Palmerstown-road, dismounted at Belmont door-steps, and asked for the
general. He was out. Then for Miss Rebecca Chattesworth. Yes, she was in
the withdrawing-room. And so, light, white, and wiry, he ascended the
stairs swiftly.

'Mr. Dangerfield,' cried Dominick, throwing open the door; and that
elderly and ill-starred wooer glided in thereat.

'Madam, your most humble servant.'

'Oh! Mr. Dangerfield? You're very welcome, Sir,' said Aunt Becky, with a
grand courtesy, and extending her thin jewelled hand, which he took
gallantly, with another bow, and a smile, and a flash from his
spectacles.

Aunt Becky laid down her volume of Richardson. She was quite alone,
except for her little monkey--Goblin--w