to pay for his lunch, and--"

"Yes, my dear; but Hendon will soon be in a position to provide
comfortably for himself," said the doctor blandly.

The old proverb about the growing grass and the starving steed occurred
to Richmond, but he only sighed.

"I don't think you need trouble yourself about Hendon, my dear."

"But there is the rent, father," said Richmond desperately, as the full
extent of their position flashed upon her; and she felt impelled to
speak.

"Ah, yes; the rent. I had forgotten the rent," said the doctor
dreamily.

"Final and threatening notices have been left about the rates and
taxes."

"Yes," said the doctor musingly. "The idea is Utopian, but I have often
thought how pleasant life would be were there no rents or rates and
taxes."

"Dear father, I must tell you all my troubles now I have begun," said
Richmond, leaving her chair to kneel down before the handsome elderly
man, and lay her hand upon his breast.

"Certainly, my darling, certainly," he said, bending down to kiss her
brow in the most gentlemanly manner, and then caress her luxuriant hair.

"They have threatened to cut off both the gas and water."

"Tut! tut! how unreasonable, Richmond! Really a severe letter ought to
be addressed to the companies' directors."

"And, father dear, the tradespeople are growing not only impatient, but
absolutely insulting. What am I to do?"

"Wait, my darling, wait. Little clouds in our existence while we are
attending the breaking forth of the sun. Not long, my dear. I am
progressing rapidly with my discovery, and while I shall be extent with
the fame, you shall be my dear banker, and manage everything as you do
now."

"Yes, yes, dear, I will; but it is so sad. No patient seems to come to
you now."

"No, my dear, no," he replied calmly; "I'm afraid I neglected several,
and they talked about it among themselves. These things will spread."

"Are there any means left of--pray forgive me, dear--of raising a little
money?"

"No, my dear, I think not. But don't trouble about it. Any day now I
may have my discovery complete, and then--but really, my dear, this is
wasting time. I must get on with my work."

He rose, and Richmond sighed as with courtly grace he raised her hand
and kissed it, smiling it her sadly and shaking his head.

"So like your dear mother," he said; "even to the tones of your voice.
Don't let me be disturbed, Richmond. I am getting to a critical point."

H