ally want no one,' said Rogan. 'We are doing most favourably in every
respect. If one of the young ladies would sit and read to him, but not
converse, it would be a service. He made the request himself this morning,
and I promised to repeat it.'

A telegram, however, announced that Sir St. Xavier Brennan would arrive
the same evening, and as Sir X. was physician-in-chief to the nuns of the
Bleeding Heart, there could be little doubt whose orthodoxy had chosen him.

He came at nightfall--a fat, comely-looking, somewhat unctuous gentleman,
with excellent teeth and snow-white hands, symmetrical and dimpled like a
woman's. He saw the patient, questioned him slightly, and divined without
waiting for it what the answer should be; he was delighted with Rogan,
pleased with Price, but he grew actually enthusiastic over those charming
nurses, Nina and Kate.

'With such sisters of charity to tend me, I'd consent to pass my life as an
invalid,' cried he.

Indeed, to listen to him, it would seem that, whether from the salubrity
of the air, the peaceful quietude of the spot, the watchful kindness
and attention of the surrounders, or a certain general air--an actual
atmosphere of benevolence and contentment around--there was no pleasure of
life could equal the delight of being laid up at Kilgobbin.

'I have a message for you from my old friend Miss O'Shea,' said he to Kate
the first moment he had the opportunity of speaking with her alone. 'It
is not necessary to tell you that I neither know, nor desire to know, its
import. Her words were these: "Tell my godchild to forgive me if she still
has any memory for some very rude words I once spoke. Tell her that I
have been sorely punished for them since, and that till I know I have her
pardon, I have no courage to cross her doors." This was my message, and I
was to bring back your answer.'

'Tell her,' cried Kate warmly, 'I have no place in my memory but for the
kindnesses she has bestowed on me, and that I ask no better boon from
Fortune than to be allowed to love her, and to be worthy of her love.'

'I will repeat every word you have told me; and I am proud to be bearer
of such a speech. May I presume, upon the casual confidence I have thus
acquired, to add one word for myself; and it is as the doctor I would
speak.'

'Speak freely. What is it?'

'It is this, then: you young ladies keep your watches in turn in the
sick-room. The patient is unfit for much excitement, and as I dar