rious. A will was a will, he said, and Verner's
Pride was indisputably his.

Altogether, taking one thing with another, Dr. West's visit to Deerham
had not been quite so satisfactory as he had anticipated it might be
made. After quitting John Massingbird, he went to Deerham Court and
remained a few hours with Sibylla. The rest of the day he divided
between his daughters in their sitting-room, and Jan in the surgery,
taking his departure again from Deerham by the night train.

And Deborah and Amilly, drowned in tears, said his visit could be
compared only to the flash of a comet's tail; no sooner seen than gone
again.

CHAPTER LXXIX.

A SIN AND A SHAME.

As the spring advanced, sickness began to prevail in Deerham. The
previous autumn, the season when the enemy chiefly loved to show itself,
had been comparatively free, but he appeared to be about taking his
revenge now. In every third house people were down with ague and fever.
Men who ought to be strong for their daily toil, women whose services
were wanted for their households and their families, children whose
young frames were unfitted to battle with it, were indiscriminately
attacked. It was capricious as a summer's wind. In some dwellings it
would be the strongest and bravest that were singled out; in some the
weakest and most delicate. Jan was worked off his legs. Those necessary
appendages to active Jan generally were exercised pretty well; but Jan
could not remember the time when they had been worked as they were now.
Jan grew cross. Not at the amount of work: it may be questioned whether
Jan did not rather prefer that, than the contrary; but at the prevailing
state of things. "It's a sin and a shame that precautions are not taken
against this periodical sickness," said Jan, speaking out more forcibly
than was his wont. "If the place were drained and the dwellings
improved, the ague would run away to more congenial quarters. _I_'d not
own Verner's Pride, unless I could show myself fit to be its owner."

The shaft may have been levelled at John Massingbird, but Lionel Verner
took it to himself. How full of self-reproach he was, he alone knew. He
had had the power in his own hands to make these improvements, and in
some manner or other he had let the time slip by: now, the power was
wrested from him. It is ever so. Golden opportunities come into our
hands, and we look at them complacently, and--do not use them. Bitter
regrets, sometimes remorse, tak