ing and talk, when the
doctor's quick wheels at the door announced not only his return but his
arrival. And Mr. Linden announced to his scholar, that it was needful
now to return to the surface of the earth and attend to the flow of
conversation--and to put the book in his pocket.

"Are you glad to see me back?" said the doctor as he took the hand of
his patient. He looked rather glad himself.

"If I say yes, that will be to confess that I have reason. You perceive
my dilemma," Mr. Linden said, but with a smile that was certainly as
kind and trustworthy as any the doctor had seen since he went away.

"Do you mean--that you have no reason to be glad?" said Dr. Harrison
slowly, eying the smile and giving it, to judge by his own, a trustful
regard.

"Certainly not! It's a comfort to have somebody at hand who is ready to
fight me at any moment," said Mr. Linden.

"What have you been doing since I went away?"

"Reading, writing, and considering the world generally."

"From this Pattaquasset centre!"

"Why not?--if lines meet and make it one."

"How do you get the ends of the lines in your hands!" said the doctor.
"A centre, I feel it to be--but very like the centre of the
earth--socially and politically. You see, I have just emerged to the
surface, and come down again. Who has taken care of you?"

"I feel quite equal to the task of taking care of myself, thank you,
doctor."

"You don't mean to say, man, you have dressed your arm yourself?"

"What _do_ you suppose my powers are equal to?"

"That is a matter," said the doctor, "upon which I stand in
doubt--which gives me an uncomfortable, troublesome sort of feeling
when I am in your presence. It must be superstition. I suppose I shall
get the better of it--or of you!--in time. Meanwhile, who _has_ dressed
your arm for you?"

The answer was given very quietly, very simply, not very loud. "The
lady whom you had the honour of instructing in the art, Dr. Harrison."

"Did you do it well?" said Dr. Harrison somewhat comically, wheeling
round before Faith.

She was a contrast; as her face looked up at him, rather pleased, and
her soft voice answered,--"I think I did, sir."

"I don't doubt you did! And I don't doubt you would do anything. Are
you preparing to be another Portia? And am I to be Bellario?"

"I don't know what you mean, Dr. Harrison."

"Do you know the story of Portia?--in the Merchant of Venice?"

"I never read it."

"She was a dangerous chara