Crampton says he hates doctors," and
Olivia's tone was a trifle anxious.

"Well, he was a bit grumpy at first, but I had my work to do, and took
no notice, but when I had helped him upstairs and put him comfortable
for the night, he waxed a shade more gracious and thanked me quite
civilly. I fancy he is a character and has lived so long alone that he
has grown morose and unsociable. That blind hound of his followed us
upstairs and would not leave him. Did you notice him, Livy?"

"Yes; and is it not a nice house, Marcus? That library is a beautiful
room. All those hundreds of well-bound books, and the massive oak
furniture. I had not time to notice things, but I could not help
feeling how deliciously soft and warm the carpets felt to one's feet,
and then those lovely rugs and skins in the hall."

"His bedroom was just as luxurious. Mr. Gaythorne is evidently a rich
man, though he keeps no carriage. Mrs. Crampton told me so. He is
very fond of flowers; there is a sort of conservatory on the first
floor full of beautiful plants, and an alcove where he can sit and
enjoy them. I could not help stopping a moment to admire them, but
Mrs. Crampton did not invite me to go in. You may depend upon it the
old gentleman is a strict martinet, and rules his household with a rod
of iron. Mrs. Crampton seems a good creature, but he spoke pretty
sharply to her once or twice."

"But he was in such pain, Marcus."

"Yes, my dear, I know that. Oh, by-the-bye, he sent his compliments to
you. 'I am greatly indebted to Mrs. Luttrell, and I trust that I shall
soon have an opportunity of thanking her properly for her kind
helpfulness.' There, Livy, now we shall hear no more of the Nihilist
or the Roman priest."

Dr. Luttrell was in spirits; it was easy to see that. The first
patient, the first brief, the first book--aye, and the first love.
What a halo remains round them!

Our first-fruits may be immature, unripe, but to us they have a goodly
flavour, a subtle, sweet aroma of their own. All through his
successful life Dr. Luttrell will look back to this evening as the
turning-point of his career, when; he stood cold and tired watching
Martha's bellows, and his wife's voice with a triumphant ring in it had
called to him from the threshold.

Marcus's first piece of good luck had so absorbed them that it was some
time before Olivia remembered to tell him about Aunt Madge's present.
Marcus forgot to go on with his tea when