o the best of them in that way."

"You had better leave London, Sir Louis, and change your old mode of
life. Go to Boxall Hill for a while; for two or three years or so;
live with your mother there and take to farming."

"What! farming?"

"Yes; that's what all country gentlemen do: take the land there into
your own hand, and occupy your mind upon it."

"Well, doctor, I will--upon one condition."

Dr Thorne sat still and listened. He had no idea what the condition
might be, but he was not prepared to promise acquiescence till he
heard it.

"You know what I told you once before," said the baronet.

"I don't remember at this moment."

"About my getting married, you know."

The doctor's brow grew black, and promised no help to the poor
wretch. Bad in every way, wretched, selfish, sensual, unfeeling,
purse-proud, ignorant as Sir Louis Scatcherd was, still, there was
left to him the power of feeling something like sincere love. It may
be presumed that he did love Mary Thorne, and that he was at the time
earnest in declaring, that if she could be given to him, he would
endeavour to live according to her uncle's counsel. It was only a
trifle he asked; but, alas! that trifle could not be vouchsafed.

"I should much approve of your getting married, but I do not know how
I can help you."

"Of course, I mean to Miss Mary: I do love her; I really do, Dr
Thorne."

"It is quite impossible, Sir Louis; quite. You do my niece much
honour; but I am able to answer for her, positively, that such a
proposition is quite out of the question."

"Look here now, Dr Thorne; anything in the way of settlements--"

"I will not hear a word on the subject: you are very welcome to the
use of my house as long as it may suit you to remain here; but I must
insist that my niece shall not be troubled on this matter."

"Do you mean to say she's in love with that young Gresham?"

This was too much for the doctor's patience. "Sir Louis," said he,
"I can forgive you much for your father's sake. I can also forgive
something on the score of your own ill health. But you ought to know,
you ought by this time to have learnt, that there are some things
which a man cannot forgive. I will not talk to you about my niece;
and remember this, also, I will not have her troubled by you:" and,
so saying, the doctor left him.

On the next day the baronet was sufficiently recovered to be able to
resume his braggadocio airs. He swore at Janet; insisted on be