r sake, but for my own as well, said my conscience; for the subtle
hope, which had taken deeper root day by day, that by-and-by the only
obstacle between us would be removed. Suppose then that he was dead, and
Olivia was free to love me, to become my wife. Would not her very
closeness to me be a reproving presence forever at my side? Could I ever
recall the days before our marriage, as men recall them when they are
growing gray and wrinkled, as a happy golden time? Would there not
always be a haunting sense of perfidy, and disloyalty to duty, standing
between me and her clear truth and singleness of heart? There could be
no happiness for me, even with Olivia, my cherished and honored wife, if
I had this weight and cloud resting upon my conscience.

The morning dawned before I could decide. The decision, when made,
brought no feeling of relief or triumph to me. As soon as it was
probable that Dr. Senior could see me; I was at his house at Fulham; and
in rapid, almost incoherent words laid what I believed to be my
important discovery before him. He sat thinking for some time, running
over in his own mind such cases as had come under his own observation.
After a while a gleam of pleasure passed over his face, and his eyes
brightened as he looked at me.

"I congratulate you, Martin," he said, "though I wish Jack had hit upon
this. I believe it will prove a real benefit to our science. Let me turn
it over a little longer, and consult some of my colleagues about it. But
I think you are right. You are about to try it on poor Foster?"

"Yes," I answered, with a chilly sensation in my veins, the natural
reaction upon the excitement of the past night.

"It can do him no harm," he said, "and in my opinion it will prolong his
life to old age, if he is careful of himself. I will write a paper on
the subject for the _Lancet_, if you will allow me."

"With all my heart," I said sadly.

The old physician regarded me for a minute with his keen eyes, which had
looked through the window of disease into many a human soul. I shrank
from the scrutiny, but I need not have done so. He grasped my hand
firmly and closely in his own.

"God bless you, Martin!" he said, "God bless you!"

CHAPTER THE FORTY-SIXTH.

A DEED OF SEPARATION.

That keen, benevolent glance of Dr. Senior's was like a gleam of
sunlight piercing through the deepest recesses of my troubled spirit. I
felt that I was no longer fighting my fight out alone. A fri