hen applying his scented handkerchief to them hastily, and looking very
kindly at me, he said--

'Anything more, dear child?'

'Nothing, uncle, thank you, very much, only about that man, Hawkes; I dare
say that he does not mean to be so uncivil as he is, but I am really afraid
of him, and he makes our walks in that direction quite unpleasant.'

'I understand quite, my dear. I will see to it; and you must remember that
nothing is to be allowed to vex my beloved niece and ward during her stay
at Bartram--nothing that her old kinsman, Silas Ruthyn, can remedy.'

So with a tender smile, and a charge to shut the door 'perfectly, but
without clapping it,' he dismissed me. Doctor Bryerly had not slept at
Bartram, but at the little inn in Feltram, and he was going direct to
London, as I afterwards learned.

'Your ugly doctor's gone away in a fly,' said Milly, as we met on the
stairs, she running up, I down.

On reaching the little apartment which was our sitting-room, however, I
found that she was mistaken; for Doctor Bryerly, with his hat and a great
pair of woollen gloves on, and an old Oxford grey surtout that showed his
lank length to advantage, buttoned all the way up to his chin, had set down
his black leather bag on the table, and was reading at the window a little
volume which I had borrowed from my uncle's library.

It was Swedenborg's account of the other worlds, Heaven and Hell.

He closed it on his finger as I entered, and without recollecting to remove
his hat, he made a step or two towards me with his splay, creaking boots.
With a quick glance at the door, he said--

'Glad to see you alone for a minute--very glad.'

But his countenance, on the contrary, looked very anxious.

CHAPTER XXXVIII

_A MIDNIGHT DEPARTURE_

'I'm going this minute--I--I want to know'--another glance at the
door--'are you really quite comfortable here?'

'Quite,' I answered promptly.

'You have only your cousin's company?' he continued, glancing at the table,
which was laid for two.

'Yes; but Milly and I are very happy together.'

'That's very nice; but I think there are no teachers, you see--painters,
and singers, and that sort of thing that is usual with young ladies. No
teachers of that kind--of _any_ kind--are there?' 'No; my uncle thinks it
better I should lay in a store of health, he says.'

'I know; and the carriage and horses have not come; how soon are they
expected?'

'I really can't say, and I assur