e
seemed to divine what was in my mind, for he said--

'Let us speak no more of it, but only bear in mind, Maud, what I told you
about the oak cabinet, the key of which is here,' and he held it up as
formerly: 'you remember what you are to do in case Doctor Bryerly should
come while I am away?'

'Yes, sir.'

His manner had changed, and I had returned to my accustomed formalities.

It was only a few days later that Dr. Bryerly actually did arrive at Knowl,
quite unexpectedly, except, I suppose, by my father. He was to stay only
one night.

He was twice closeted in the little study up-stairs with my father, who
seemed to me, even for him, unusually dejected, and Mrs. Rusk inveighing
against 'them rubbitch,' as she always termed the Swedenborgians, told me
'they were making him quite shaky-like, and he would not last no time, if
that lanky, lean ghost of a fellow in black was to keep prowling in and out
of his room like a tame cat.'

I lay awake that night, wondering what the mystery might be that connected
my father and Dr. Bryerly. There was something more than the convictions
of their strange religion could account for. There was something that
profoundly agitated my father. It may not be reasonable, but so it is. The
person whose presence, though we know nothing of the cause of that effect,
is palpably attended with pain to anyone who is dear to us, grows odious,
and I began to detest Doctor Bryerly.

It was a grey, dark morning, and in a dark pass in the gallery, near the
staircase, I came full upon the ungainly Doctor, in his glossy black suit.

I think, if my mind had been less anxiously excited on the subject of
his visit, or if I had not disliked him so much, I should not have found
courage to accost him as I did. There was something sly, I thought, in his
dark, lean face; and he looked so low, so like a Scotch artisan in his
Sunday clothes, that I felt a sudden pang of indignation, at the thought
that a great gentleman, like my father, should have suffered under his
influence, and I stopped suddenly, instead of passing him by with a mere
salutation, as he expected, 'May I ask a question, Doctor Bryerly?'

'Certainly'

'Are you the friend whom my father expects?'

'I don't quite see.'

'The friend, I mean, with whom he is to make an expedition to some
distance, I think, and for some little time?'

'No,' said the Doctor, with a shake of his head.

'And who is he?'

'I really have not a notion, Mi