and Mr Distin has
got his in a way such a proud, sensitive fellow will never forget."

"But ought not Vane to have beaten him, too?" said Aunt Hannah, naively.

"What!" cried the doctor, in mock horror. "Woman! You are a very
glutton at revenge. Three in one afternoon? But to be serious. He was
beaten, then, my dear--with forgiveness. Coals of fire upon his enemy's
head, and given him a lesson such as may form a turning point in his
life. God bless you, my boy! You've done a finer thing to-day than it
is in your power yet to grasp. You'll think more deeply of it some day,
and--Hannah, my darling, are you going to stand preaching at this poor
boy all the evening, when you see he is nearly starved?"

Aunt Hannah laughed and cried together, as she fondled Vane.

"I'll go and fetch you a cup of tea, my dear. Don't move."

The doctor took a step forward, and gave Vane a slap on the back.

"Cup of tea--brought for him. Come along, boy. Aunt would spoil us
both if she could, but we're too good stuff, eh? Now, prize-fighter,
give your aunt your arm, and I'll put some big black patches on your
nose and forehead after tea."

Vane jumped up and held out his arm, but Aunt Hannah looked at him
wildly.

"You don't think, dear, that black patches--oh!"

"No, I don't," said the doctor gaily; "but we must have some pleasant
little bit of fiction to keep him at home for a few days. Little poorly
or--I know. Note to the rectory asking Syme to forgive me, and we'll
have the pony-carriage at six in the morning, and go down to Scarboro'
for a week, till he is fit to be seen."

"Yes," said Aunt Hannah, eagerly, "the very thing;" and to her great
delight, save that his mouth was stiff and sore, Vane ate and drank as
if nothing whatever had been the matter. The next morning they started
for their long drive, to catch the train.

"Third-class now, my boy," said the doctor, sadly; "economising has
begun."

"And I had forgotten it all," thought Vane. "Poor uncle!--poor aunt! I
must get better, and go to work."

CHAPTER THIRTY FOUR.

THE MOUSE AND THE LION.

The stay at Scarboro' was short, for a letter came from Aunt Hannah,
announcing that Mr Deering was coming down, and adding rather
pathetically that she wished he would not.

The doctor tossed the letter over to Vane, who was looking out of the
hotel window, making a plan for sliding bathing machines down an
inclined plane; and he had mentally contrived