he doctor went at once into the bedroom,
telling the landlady to follow him, and to close the door behind her.

A weary time passed before he came back into the front room. When he
re-appeared, his face spoke for him, before any question could be asked.

"Is it a serious illness?" said Kirke his voice sinking low, his eyes
anxiously fixed on the doctor's face.

"It is a _dangerous_ illness," said Mr. Merrick, with an emphasis on the
word.

He drew his chair nearer to Kirke and looked at him attentively.

"May I ask you some questions which are not strictly medical?" he
inquired.

Kirke bowed.

"Can you tell me what her life has been before she came into this house,
and before she fell ill?"

"I have no means of knowing. I have just returned to England after a
long absence."

"Did you know of her coming here?"

"I only discovered it by accident."

"Has she no female relations? No mother? no sister? no one to take care
of her but yourself?"

"No one--unless I can succeed in tracing her relations. No one but
myself."

Mr. Merrick was silent. He looked at Kirke more attentively than ever.
"Strange!" thought the doctor. "He is here, in sole charge of her--and
is this all he knows?"

Kirke saw the doubt in his face; and addressed himself straight to that
doubt, before another word passed between them,

"I see my position here surprises you," he said, simply. "Will you
consider it the position of a relation--the position of her brother or
her father--until her friends can be found?" His voice faltered, and he
laid his hand earnestly on the doctor's arm. "I have taken this trust on
myself," he said; "and as God shall judge me, I will not be unworthy of
it!"

The poor weary head lay on his breast again, the poor fevered fingers
clasped his hand once more, as he spoke those words.

"I believe you," said the doctor, warmly. "I believe you are an honest
man.--Pardon me if I have seemed to intrude myself on your confidence. I
respect your reserve--from this moment it is sacred to me. In justice to
both of us, let me say that the questions I have asked were not prompted
by mere curiosity. No common cause will account for the illness which
has laid my patient on that bed. She has suffered some long-continued
mental trial, some wearing and terrible suspense--and she has broken
down under it. It might have helped me if I could have known what the
nature of the trial was, and how long or how short a time elapsed be