e knew
every one of any importance in the city.

"These are to me friends, Doctor," he said. "I beg of you to come
often," a request to the doctor's liking, as it seemed to carry better
assurance of pay than was the usual experience among his emigrant
countrymen. He was at once a little more civil. He bowed repeatedly, was
much honored, and after asking a few questions of De Courval, went
up-stairs with Mrs. Swanwick, reflecting upon how some day he could
avenge himself on Gainor Wynne.

De Courval, relieved by his presence and a little amused, said, smiling,
"I hope he is a good doctor."

"Yes, he is competent. He manufactures his manners for the moment's
need."

The doctor came down in half an hour, and, speaking French of the best,
said: "Madame has had troubles, I fear, and the long voyage and no
appetite for sea diet--bad, bad. It is only a too great strain on mind
and body. There needs repose and shortly wine,--good Bordeaux
claret,--and soon, in a week or two, to drive out and take the air.
There is no cause for alarm, but it will be long, long."

Schmidt went with him to the door. De Courval sat down. Wine, drives, a
doctor, and for how long? And perhaps additions to the simple diet of
this modest household. Well, he must use some of the small means in
Wynne's hands. And these women, with their cares, their brave
self-denial of all help, how could he ever repay this unlooked-for
kindness?

His mother soon grew better, and, having again seen Mr. Wynne, he felt
that he might shortly take up the work which awaited him.

Meanwhile, the gentle nursing was effective, and went on without
complaint and as a matter of course. Miss Wynne came at odd hours to
inquire or to fetch some luxury, and soon the vicomte must call to see
her.

The days went by, and there were strawberries for madame from Mr.
Langstroth and from Merion, walks for De Courval, or a pull on the water
with Schmidt, and anxiously desired news from France. At last, after a
fortnight or more, well on into June, the doctor insisted on claret, and
De Courval asked of Schmidt where it could be had. The German laughed.
"I might lie to you, and I should at need, but I have already for the
mother's use good Bordeaux in the cellar."

De Courval colored, and, hesitating, asked, "How much am I in your
debt?"

"Six months of the five years. It is I shall be long in debt, I fear. It
cannot be all on one side. The life of a man! What credit hath it in th