treet, when my Aunt Caroline came hurrying over in
her chair, and my uncle on foot. They brushed past Scipio at the door,
and were pushing up the long flight when they were stopped on the landing
by Dr. Leiden.

"How is my father, sir?" Grafton cried, "and why was I not informed at
once of his illness? I must see him."

"Your vater can see no one, Mr. Carvel," said the doctor, quietly.

"What," says my uncle, "you dare to refuse me?"

"Not so lout, I bray you," says the doctor; "I tare any ting vere life is
concerned."

"But I will see him," says Grafton, in a sort of helpless rage, for the
doctor's manner baffled him. "I will see him before he dies, and no man
alive shall say me nay."

Then my Aunt Caroline gathered up her skirt, and made shift to pass the
doctor.

"I have come to nurse him," said she, imperiously, and, turning to where
I stood near, she added: "Bid a servant fetch from York Street what I
shall have need of."

The doctor smiled, but stood firm. He cared little for aught in heaven
or earth, did Dr. Leiden, and nothing whatever for Mr. and Mrs. Grafton
Carvel.

"I peg you, matam, do not disturp yourself," said he. "Mr. Carvel is
aply attended by an excellent voman, Mrs. Villis, and he has no neet of
you."

"What," cried my aunt; "this is too much, sir, that I am thrust out of my
father-in-law's house, and my place taken by a menial. That woman able!"
she fumed, dropping suddenly her cloak of dignity; "Mr. Carvel's charity
is all that keeps her here."

Then my uncle drew himself up. "Dr. Leiden," says he, "kindly oblige me
by leaving my father's house, and consider your services here at an end.
And Richard," he goes on to me, "send my compliments to Dr. Drake, and
request him to come at once."

I was stepping forward to say that I would do nothing of the kind, when
the doctor stopped me by a signal, as much as to say that the quarrel was
wide enough without me. He stood with his back against the great arched
window flooded with the yellow light of the setting sun, a little black
figure in high relief, with a face of parchment. And he took a pinch of
snuff before he spoke.

"I am here py Mr. Carvel's orters, sir," said he, "and py tose alone vill
I leaf."

And this is how the Chippendale piece was broke, which you, my children,
and especially Bess, admire so extravagantly. It stood that day behind
the doctor, and my uncle, making a violent move to get by, struck it, and
so it fell with