ker motion
to his throbbing heart. He rose to his feet, hat in hand, and turned
away. The noise of a passing group of roysterers in the street without,
came strangely loud into the silence of that room.

"Good night, Mrs. Miller. I'll be here in the morning. Good night."

"Good night, sir. God bless you, sir!"

He turned around quickly. The warm tears in his dark eyes had flowed on
his face, which was pale; and his firm lip quivered.

"I hope He will, Mrs. Miller--I hope He will. It should have been said
oftener."

He was on the outer threshold. Mrs. Flanagan had, somehow, got there
before him, with a lamp, and he followed her down through the dancing
shadows, with blurred eyes. On the lower landing he stopped to hear the
jar of some noisy wrangle, thick with oaths, from the bar-room. He
listened for a moment, and then turned to the staring stupor of Mrs.
Flanagan's rugged visage.

"Sure, they're at ut, docther, wud a wull," she said, smiling.

"Yes. Mrs. Flanagan, you'll stay up with Mrs. Miller to-night, won't
you?"

"Dade an' I wull, sur."

"That's right. Do. And make her try and sleep, for she must be tired.
Keep up a fire--not too warm, you understand. There'll be wood and coal
coming to-morrow, and she'll pay you back."

"A-w, docther, dawn't noo!"

"Well, well. And--look here; have you got anything to eat in the house?
Yes; well; take it up-stairs. Wake up those two boys, and give them
something to eat. Don't let Mrs. Miller stop you. Make her eat
something. Tell her I said she must. And, first of all, get your bonnet,
and go to that apothecary's--Flint's--for a bottle of port wine, for
Mrs. Miller. Hold on. There's the order." (He had a leaf out of his
pocket-book in a minute, and wrote it down.) "Go with this, the first
thing. Ring Flint's bell, and he'll wake up. And here's something for
your own Christmas dinner, to-morrow." Out of the roll of bills, he drew
one of the tens--Globe Bank--Boston--and gave it to Mrs. Flanagan.

"A-w, dawn't noo, docther."

"Bother! It's for yourself, mind. Take it. There. And now unlock the
door. That's it. Good night, Mrs. Flanagan."

"An' meh thuh Hawly Vurgin hape blessn's on ye, Docther Rinton, wud a-ll
thuh compliments uv thuh sehzin, for yur thuh--"

He lost the end of Mrs. Flanagan's parting benedictions in the moonlit
street. He did not pause till he was at the door of the oyster-room. He
paused then, to make way for a tipsy company of four, who reeled