ature, aided by repose, that checked the effusion of
blood, and restored some temporary strength to the poor sufferer, is
more than it becomes one not of the Faculty to opine. But certainly Mr.
Digby seemed better, and he gradually fell into a profound sleep, but
not till the doctor had put his ear to his chest, tapped it with his
hand, and asked several questions; after which the homoeopathist
retired into a corner of the room, and, leaning his face on his hand,
seemed to meditate. From his thoughts he was disturbed by a gentle
touch. Helen was kneeling at his feet.

"Is he very ill--very?" said she; and her fond wistful eyes were fixed
on the physician's with all the earnestness of despair.

"Your father _is_ very ill," replied the doctor after a short pause. "He
cannot move hence for some days at least. I am going to London--shall I
call on your relations, and tell some of them to join you?"

"No, thank you, sir," answered Helen, coloring. "But do not fear; I can
nurse papa. I think he has been worse before--that is, he has complained
more."

The homoeopathist rose and took two strides across the room, then he
paused by the bed, and listened to the breathing of the sleeping man.

He stole back to the child, who was still kneeling, took her in his arms
and kissed her. "Tamm it," said he angrily, and putting her down, "go to
bed now--you are not wanted any more."

"Please, sir," said Helen, "I cannot leave him so. If he wakes he would
miss me."

The doctor's hand trembled; he had recourse to his globules. "Anxiety,
grief suppressed," muttered he. "Don't you want to cry, my dear?
Cry--do!"

"I can't," murmured Helen.

"_Pulsatilla!_" said the doctor, almost with triumph. "I said so from
the first. Open your mouth--here! Good night. My room is opposite--No.
6; call me if he wakes."

CHAPTER XIII.

At seven o'clock Dr. Dosewell arrived, and was shown into the room of
the homoeopathist, who, already up and dressed, had visited his
patient.

"My name is Morgan," said the homoeopathist; "I am a physician. I
leave in your hands a patient whom, I fear, neither I nor you can
restore. Come and look at him."

The two doctors went into the sick-room. Mr. Digby was very feeble, but
he had recovered his consciousness, and inclined his head courteously.

"I am sorry to cause so much trouble," said he. The homoeopathist drew
away Helen; the allopathist seated himself by the bedside and put his
questions, felt the