employed."

So saying, he summoned the household, and, for the first time for a
month, the whole family party assembled, as before, at prayer. Never
were thanksgivings more earnestly, more devoutly uttered. All arose with
bright and cheerful countenances; and even Blaize seemed to have shaken
off his habitual dread of the pestilence. As he retired with Patience,
he observed to her, "Master Stephen looks quite well, though a little
thinner. I must ascertain from him the exact course of treatment pursued
by his father. I wonder whether Mr. Bloundel would nurse _me_ if I were
to be suddenly seized with the distemper?"

"If he wouldn't, I _would_," replied Patience.

"Thank you, thank you," replied Blaize. "I begin to think we shall get
through it. I shall go out to-morrow and examine the bills of mortality,
and see what progress the plague is making. I am all anxiety to know. I
must get a fresh supply of medicine, too. My private store is quite
gone, except three of my favourite rufuses, which I shall take before I
go to bed to-night. Unluckily, my purse is as empty as my phials."

"I can lend you a little money," said Patience. "I haven't touched my
last year's wages. They are quite at your service."

"You are too good," replied Blaize; "but I won't decline the offer. I
heard a man crying a new anti-pestilential elixir, as he passed the
house yesterday. I must find him out and buy a bottle. Besides, I must
call on my friend Parkhurst, the apothecary.--You are a good girl,
Patience, and I'll marry you as soon as the plague ceases."

"I have something else to give you," rejoined Patience. "This little bag
contains a hazel-nut, from which I have picked the kernel, and filled
its place with quicksilver, stopping the hole with wax. Wear it round
your neck, and you will find it a certain preservative against the
pestilence."

"Who told you of this remedy?" asked Blaize, taking the bag.

"Your mother," returned Patience.

"I wonder I never heard of it," said the porter.

"She wouldn't mention it to you, because the doctor advised her not to
put such matters into your head," replied Patience. "But I couldn't help
indulging you. Heigho! I hope the plague will soon be over."

"It won't be over for six months," rejoined Blaize, shaking his head. "I
read in a little book, published in 1593, in Queen Elizabeth's reign,
and written by Simon Kelway, 'that when little children flock together,
and pretend that some of their n