d taken her, and what
fun they had got out of their first attempt at housekeeping.

The little change did them both good, but, though neither of them would
have owned it for the world, No. 1, Galvaston Terrace, certainly looked
a little dreary on their return.

The bright spring weather only made the dinginess more apparent, but
nothing would induce the landlord to treat them to a fresh coat of
paint. Marcus whitewashed one or two of the rooms in the intervals of
his work, and Olivia put up clean curtains and purchased a plant or
two. As far as scrupulous cleanliness could avail, the little house
was in first-rate order. Nevertheless Marcus gave vent to an impatient
sigh now and then as he looked round the small, low room. The side
windows had been blocked up in the days of the window-tax, and the one
small window lighted the room imperfectly.

"If we could only move," he said once. "I want you and Dot to have
more light and air. We are too near the cemetery, too. We should do
much better in Compton Street or Norfolk Terrace." And then, as Olivia
looked at him in surprise, he said a little impatiently:

"Oh, I know it is not to be done yet. We shall have to want a little
longer. I believe it was that insufferable woman, Mrs. Tolman, put it
into my head. She actually told me that we ought to move, as no good
class of patients would ever come to Galvaston Terrace. It was just
like her impudence--eh, Livy?"

"Oh, Marcus, I am so sorry," and Olivia put down her work and looked at
him sympathetically. "I thought something had annoyed you the moment
you came in. It is too bad of Mrs. Tolman always to tread upon
people's corns in this fashion. She might wait until one asks her
advice."

"Oh, but it is true, all the same," he returned, with a tinge of
despondency in his voice.

"A good house in a good neighbourhood would make all the difference to
the practice. A house in Brunswick Place, for example."

But Olivia only laughed. "Someone besides myself can build
air-castles," she said, archly. "You might as well go on, Marcus. Why
not be Dr. Bevan's partner, too?" Then Marcus started, and an odd
little smile played round his mouth. The very same thought had already
occurred to him.

CHAPTER XIX.

DAME FORTUNE SMILES.

"Of pleasures, those which occur most rarely give the greatest
pleasure."--_Epictetus_.

Dr. Luttrell's fit of pessimism did not last long. The very next day
he had a