he doing now?"

"Dressing, I suppose; he's been at it this hour."

"But, uncle--"

"Well?"

"Will he come up after dinner, do you think?"

Mary spoke of him as though he were some wild beast, whom her uncle
insisted on having in his house.

"Goodness knows what he will do! Come up? Yes. He will not stay in
the dining-room all night."

"But, dear uncle, do be serious."

"Serious!"

"Yes; serious. Don't you think that I might go to bed, instead of
waiting?"

The doctor was saved the trouble of answering by the entrance of the
baronet. He was dressed in what he considered the most fashionable
style of the day. He had on a new dress-coat lined with satin,
new dress-trousers, a silk waistcoat covered with chains, a white
cravat, polished pumps, and silk stockings, and he carried a scented
handkerchief in his hand; he had rings on his fingers, and carbuncle
studs in his shirt, and he smelt as sweet as patchouli could make
him. But he could hardly do more than shuffle into the room, and
seemed almost to drag one of his legs behind him.

Mary, in spite of her aversion, was shocked and distressed when she
saw him. He, however, seemed to think himself perfect, and was no
whit abashed by the unfavourable reception which twelve months since
had been paid to his suit. Mary came up and shook hands with him, and
he received her with a compliment which no doubt he thought must be
acceptable. "Upon my word, Miss Thorne, every place seems to agree
with you; one better than another. You were looking charming at
Boxall Hill; but, upon my word, charming isn't half strong enough
now."

Mary sat down quietly, and the doctor assumed a face of unutterable
disgust. This was the creature for whom all his sympathies had been
demanded, all his best energies put in requisition; on whose behalf
he was to quarrel with his oldest friends, lose his peace and
quietness of life, and exercise all the functions of a loving friend!
This was his self-invited guest, whom he was bound to foster, and
whom he could not turn from his door.

Then dinner came, and Mary had to put her hand upon his arm. She
certainly did not lean upon him, and once or twice felt inclined to
give him some support. They reached the dining-room, however, the
doctor following them, and then sat down, Janet waiting in the room,
as was usual.

"I say, doctor," said the baronet, "hadn't my man better come in
and help? He's got nothing to do, you know. We should be more