's the tappit hen. I doot gin we lea' her i' the press,
she'll be wantin' to lay."

"Na, na, nae fear o' that. She's as toom's a cock. Gang and luik. The
last drap in her wame flaw oot at the window i' that bottle. Eh! Alec,
but I'll hae a sair day, and ye maun be true to me. Gie me my Homer, or
I'll never win throu't. An ye may lay John Milton within my rax
(reach); for I winna pit my leg oot o' the blankets till ye come hame.
Sae ye maunna be langer nor ye can help."

Alec promised, and set off with a light heart.

Beauchamp was at none of the classes. And the blinds of Kate's windows
were still drawn down.

For a whole week he came home as early as possible and spent the rest
of the day with Mr Cupples. But many dreary hours passed over them
both. The suffering of Mr Cupples and the struggle which he had to
sustain with the constant craving of his whole being, are perhaps
indescribable; but true to his vow and to his friend, he endured
manfully. Still it was with a rueful-comical look and a sigh,
sometimes, that he would sit down to his tea, remarking,

"Eh, man! this is meeserable stuff--awfu' weyk tipple--a pagan
invention a'thegither."

But the tea comforted the poor half-scorched, half-sodden nerves
notwithstanding, and by slow degrees they began to gather tone and
strength; his appetite improved; and at the end of the week he resumed
his duties in the library. And thenceforth, as soon as his classes were
over, Alec would go to the library to Mr Cupples, or on other days Mr
Cupples would linger near the medical school or hospital, till Alec
came out, and then they would go home together. Once home, both found
enough to do in getting one of them up to the mark of the approaching
examinations.--Two pale-faced creatures they sat there, in Mr Cupples's
garret, looking wretched and subdued enough, although occasionally they
broke out laughing, as the sparks of life revived and flickered into
merriment.

Inquiring after Miss Fraser, Alec learned that she was ill. The maid
inquired in return if he knew anything about Mr Beauchamp.

CHAPTER LXXVII.

Mr Cupples and Alec were hard at work--the table covered with books and
papers; when a knock came to the door--the rarest occurrence in that
skyey region--and the landlady ushered in Mrs Forbes.

The two men sprang to their feet, and Mrs Forbes stared with gratified
amazement. The place was crowded with signs of intellectual labour, and
not even a pac