ctor's paper-knife
as it parted the leaves of a pamphlet. He was thinking over the late
interview with Richling, and knew that, if this silence were not soon
interrupted from without, he would have to encounter his book-keeper,
who had not spoken since Richling had left. Presently the issue came.

"Dr. Seveeah,"--Narcisse came forward, hat in hand,--"I dunno 'ow 'tis,
but Mistoo Itchlin always wemine me of that povvub, 'Ully to bed, ully
to 'ise, make a pusson to be 'ealthy an' wealthy an' wise.'"

"I don't know how it is, either," grumbled the Doctor.

"I believe thass not the povvub I was thinking. I am acquainting myseff
with those povvubs; but I'm somewhat gween in that light, in fact. Well,
Doctah, I'm goin' ad the--shoemakeh. I burs' my shoe yistiddy. I was
juz"--

"Very well, go."

"Yesseh; and from the shoemakeh I'll go"--

The Doctor glanced darkly over the top of the pamphlet.

"--Ad the bank; yesseh," said Narcisse, and went.

CHAPTER XXXI.

AT LAST.

Mary, cooking supper, uttered a soft exclamation of pleasure and relief
as she heard John's step under the alley window and then at the door.
She turned, with an iron spoon in one hand and a candlestick in the
other, from the little old stove with two pot-holes, where she had been
stirring some mess in a tin pan.

"Why, you're"--she reached for a kiss--"real late!"

"I could not come any sooner." He dropped into a chair at the table.

"Busy?"

"No; no work to-day."

Mary lifted the pan from the stove, whisked it to the table, and blew
her fingers.

"Same subject continued," she said laughingly, pointing with her spoon
to the warmed-over food.

Richling smiled and nodded, and then flattened his elbows out on the
table and hid his face in them.

This was the first time he had ever lingered away from his wife when he
need not have done so. It was the Doctor's proposition that had kept him
back. All day long it had filled his thoughts. He felt its wisdom. Its
sheer practical value had pierced remorselessly into the deepest
convictions of his mind. But his heart could not receive it.

"Well," said Mary, brightly, as she sat down at the table, "maybe
you'll have better luck to-morrow. Don't you think you may?"

"I don't know," said John, straightening up and tossing back his hair.
He pushed a plate up to the pan, supplied and passed it. Then he helped
himself and fell to eating.

"Have you seen Dr. Sevier to-day?" asked Mary, cautio