med professional fury.

"'T is a good lass, dame," said the doctor, when she was gone; "and, by
the same token, I wish her better mated than to a scrub of a farrier."

* * * * *

Griffith, still weak, but freed of fever, woke one glorious afternoon,
and heard a bird-like voice humming a quaint old ditty, and saw a field
of golden wheat through an open window, and seated at that window the
mellow songstress, Mercy Vint, plying her needle, with lowered lashes
but beaming face, a picture of health and quiet womanly happiness.
Things were going to her mind in that sick-room.

He looked at her, and at the golden corn and summer haze beyond, and the
tide of life seemed to rush back upon him.

"My good lass," said he, "tell me, where am I? for I know not."

Mercy started, and left off singing, then rose and came slowly towards
him, with her work in her hand.

Innocent joy at this new symptom of convalescence flushed her comely
features, but she spoke low.

"Good sir, at the 'Packhorse,'" said she, smiling.

"The 'Packhorse'? and where is that?"

"Hard by Allerton village."

"And where is that? not in Cumberland?"

"Nay, in Lancashire, your worship. Why, whence come you that know not
the 'Packhorse,' nor yet Allerton township? Come you from Cumberland?"

"No matter whence I come. I'm going on board ship,--like my father
before me."

"Alas, sir, you are not fit; you have been very ill, and partly
distraught."

She stopped; for Griffith turned his face to the wall, with a deep
groan. It had all rushed over him in a moment.

Mercy stood still, and worked on, but the water gathered in her eyes at
that eloquent groan.

By and by Griffith turned round again, with a face of anguish, and filmy
eyes, and saw her in the same place, standing, working, and pitying.

"What, are _you_ there still?" said he, roughly.

"Ay, sir; but I'll go, sooner than be troublesome. Can I fetch you
anything?"

"No. Ay, wine; bring me wine to drown it all."

She brought him a pint of wine.

"Pledge me," said he, with a miserable attempt at a smile.

She put the cup to her lips, and sipped a drop or two; but her dove's
eyes were looking up at him over the liquor all the time. Griffith soon
disposed of the rest, and asked for more.

"Nay," said she, "but I dare not: the doctor hath forbidden excess in
drinking."

"The doctor! What doctor?"

"Doctor Paul," said she, demurely. "He hath saved your l