e had been hastening to a patient when encountered by Lionel and
Captain Cannonby. From that patient he had to hasten to others, in a
succession of relays, as it were, all day long; sometimes his own legs
in requisition, sometimes the horse's. About seven o'clock he got home
to tea, at which Miss Deborah made him comfortable. Truth to say, Miss
Deborah felt rather inclined to pet Jan as a son. He had gone there a
boy, and Miss Deb, though the years since had stolen on and on, and had
changed Jan into a man, had not allowed her ideas to keep pace with
them. So do we cheat ourselves! There were times when a qualm of
conscience came over Miss Deb. Remembering how hard Jan worked, and that
her father took more than the lion's share of the profits, it appeared
to her scarcely fair. Not that she could alter it, poor thing! All she
could do was to be as economical as possible, and to study Jan's
comforts. Now and again she had been compelled to go to Jan for money,
over and above the stipulated sum paid to her. Jan gave it as freely and
readily as he would have filled Miss Amilly's glass pot with castor oil.
But Deborah West knew that it came out of Jan's own pocket; and, to ask
for it, went terribly against her feelings and her sense of justice.

The tea was over. But she took care of Jan's--some nice tea, and toasted
tea-cakes, and a plate of ham. Jan sat down by the fire, and, as Miss
Deb said, took it in comfort. Truth to say, had Jan found only the
remains of the teapot, and stale bread-and-butter, he might have thought
it comfortable enough for him; he would not have grumbled had he found
nothing.

"Any fresh messages in, do you know, Miss Deb?" he inquired.

"Now, do pray get your tea in peace, Mr. Jan, and don't worry yourself
over 'fresh messages,'" responded Miss Deb. "Master Cheese was called
out to the surgery at tea-time, but I suppose it was nothing particular,
for he was back again directly."

"Of course!" cried Jan. "_He'd_ not lose his tea without a fight for
it."

Jan finished his tea and departed to the surgery, catching sight of the
coat-tails of Mr. Bitterworth's servant leaving it. Master Cheese was
seated with the leech basin before him. It was filled with Orleans
plums, of which he was eating with uncommon satisfaction. Liking
variations of flavour in fruit, he occasionally diversified the plums
with a sour codlin apple, a dozen or so of which he had stowed away in
his trousers' pockets. Bob stood