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 MR. WARRENNE, 
 
 THE MEDICAL PRACTITIONER.
 
 MR. WARRENNE 
 
 THE MEDICAL PRACTITIONER. 
 A NOVEL. 
 
 BY THE AUTHOR 0! "CONSTANCE D'OYLEY," 
 "MARGARET CAPEL," &c. 
 
 IN THREE VOLUMES. 
 VOL. I. 
 
 LONDON : 
 
 RICHARD BENTLEY, NEW BURLINGTON STREET. 
 
 1848.
 
 LONDON : 
 
 ^Y. OSTELL, PRINTER, HART STREET, 
 
 BLOOMSBURY SQUARE.
 
 
 w/s 
 
 ^ 
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 And so with trees beset 
 Was all the place, and hawthorn hedges knet, 
 That lyf was none walking there forbye, 
 That might within scarce any night espy. 
 And on the smal greene twistis sat 
 The lytel sweet nyghtingales, and snng 
 So lond and clere the hymns consecrate 
 To lovis use, now soft, now loud among. 
 
 James I. of Scotland. — The King's Quhair. 
 
 The village of Erlsmede, about forty miles from 
 London, was rather remarkable for the beauty 
 of its situation and that of the country 
 round. 
 
 It was built upon high ground — so high, 
 that the tower of the old church was a sort of 
 
 VOL. I. B
 
 Z INTRODUCTION. 
 
 landmark for many miles. But the situation 
 of the village was not too exposed; — it was 
 sheltered on all sides by trees of unusual size 
 and antiquity. The prettiest lane in all the 
 country was to be found leading out of this 
 little village, down to the high London-road. 
 The hedges were deep thickets, always un- 
 trimmed, of hawthorn and hazel, overgrown 
 with many a drooping plant of woodbine and 
 wild rose : while here and there a rough oak 
 lifted its head above the bushes, and stretched 
 its gnarled boughs over the road. The lane 
 was always shady — always quiet — it was a slow 
 and long ascent, though winding, and there was 
 the choice of another road, for the few carts 
 and carriages bound to Erlsmede. The sun 
 might chequer the path, and the thrushes sing 
 in the deep shade of the hawthorns for many 
 hours in the day, without a witness. 
 
 One bright morning, early in June, two 
 little girls of ten and twelve years old, were 
 slowly loitering down the lane. They were
 
 INTRODUCTION. 6 
 
 drest with great simplicity, in black frocks, and 
 broad straw hats, from which depended long 
 black ribbons, — they carried a little wicker 
 basket between them, in which were a few wild 
 flowers. They were both lovely. The eldest 
 with a brilliant complexion — bright contrasts of 
 white and deepest rose — hair of the darkest 
 brown plainly parted from the forehead, deep 
 gray eyes of that steady and subdued brilliancy 
 rarely seen but in the south of Ireland, and 
 which more than any others might deserve the 
 epithet of starlike, and a figure tall, slight, and 
 full of a graceful energy : — the younger girl, 
 less slender, fairer, with a profusion of tangled 
 golden hair hanging over her glowing face, and 
 a beautiful and soft simplicity in her gestures. 
 They paused, and the eldest untied the hat of 
 the younger girl, and lifted it off her brow. 
 
 " How hot you are, Alice." 
 
 "And you too, Maud," said the younger 
 girl, without turning her sleepy hazel eyes to- 
 wards her sister — instead of which she passed 
 
 b 2
 
 4 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 her fingers with a quick tremulous motion 
 across her forehead. She was blind. 
 
 " We shall soon be cool here. Do you feel 
 the wind?" asked Maud. 
 
 "Yes; how soft it is. There is some honey- 
 suckle close to us — look !" 
 
 " Where ? I do not see it — oh yes ! just be- 
 hind you — there, I have bent down the branch : 
 will you like to gather it ?" 
 
 " Poor mamma/' said the child, pausing in 
 the midst of her occupation — "she was so fond 
 of honeysuckle — do you remember, Maud, this 
 time last year, we used to go and search the 
 hedges for a piece that was blown — when she 
 was so ill ?" 
 
 She stopped, not crying, for she never shed 
 tears ; but pale and trembling. 
 
 "Let us sit down," said Maud — "it is 
 mossy here, under this oak." 
 
 Her large dazzling eyes were swimming in 
 tears, but she had learned already the difficult 
 lesson which all women must learn sooner or
 
 INTRODUCTION. 5 
 
 later — to control their own feelings for the 
 sake of others. Alice trembling as a person 
 trembles in an ague, leaned against her 
 sister. 
 
 " Hark \" said Maud, trying to divert her 
 sister, " do you hear that thrush ? — does not he 
 sing sweetly? such a merry looking fellow ! 
 would not Leonard like to have a shot at 
 him !" 
 
 " I hear something else," said Alice, raising 
 her head, "horse's feet — two horses. People 
 so seldom come this way." 
 
 "No, dear Ally, I hear nothing; if you will 
 hold the basket, I will gather some of those 
 roses. No, don't try to touch them, you will 
 run the thorns into your fingers ! " 
 
 But so daintily did Alice finger the prickly 
 stems, that she gathered one rose after another 
 without hurting herself. Meanwhile, for she 
 was never mistaken, two horsemen came trot- 
 t ing rapidly towards the girls. 
 
 " Ah, Maud ! the horses ! keep close ! "
 
 6 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 cried Alice, pressing to her sister. Alice was 
 very timid, for she had not been born blind. 
 
 But though the two girls stood close up to 
 the hedge, one of the horses, coming quickly 
 upon them, shyed all across the lane, and then 
 became unmanageable. Such a perversely res- 
 tive animal had never come out of a stable 
 since the days of Bucephalus. 
 
 Maud, with a sudden energy that supplied 
 the place of strength, swung her sister a few 
 feet up the bank, and held her there with one 
 hand, while she looked bravely round at the 
 threatened danger; her slender foot firmly 
 planted forward, and her lovely face all in a 
 glow, partly from alarm, and partly from the 
 exertion of her attitude. Meantime the horse 
 leaped in the air, stood on his hind legs, ran 
 round in circles, and sometimes kicked out at 
 a large Newfoundland dog, which, to complete 
 the confusion, flew, barking and bounding, 
 round the restive animal. 
 
 " Call your dog off ! " cried Maud, waving
 
 INTRODUCTION. 7 
 
 her hand to the rider, who seemed to sit as 
 comfortably as if he were in an arm chair, and 
 who rather encouraged the gambols of his four- 
 footed friend, by spurring him repeatedly. 
 
 Alice, pale and silent from excess of terror, 
 clung to her sister. 
 
 " Nelson, down ! " said the horseman in a 
 quick, sharp tone. The dog crouched almost 
 at the feet of the sisters. 
 
 It was now the fancy of the horse to stand 
 stock-still. The rider, who might have been 
 about eighteen years old, dismounted care- 
 lessly — picked up the basket, which Maud had 
 dropped, and presented it to her. The other 
 rider, a few years older than himself, who had 
 prudently kept back his horse during the 
 scuffle, now rode slowly forward. 
 
 " Maud — the horses ? " said Alice, enquir- 
 ingly, stretching out her hands. 
 
 u Quite still — standing in the road- — don't 
 be frightened any more," said Maud, helping 
 her sister down from the bank.
 
 8 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 The young man, who had dismounted, stood 
 with one arm thrown over his horse's neck, 
 watching the children attentively; Alice still 
 trembling — Maud holding both her hands. 
 
 tt "Were y 0U frightened, eh ? " he asked, in 
 a clear, quick tone, looking earnestly at Maud. 
 
 "Yes — for my sister — she is blind," said 
 Maud, turning her large eyes straight upon the 
 stranger's face. 
 
 " Good/' said he, quickly. Then, after a 
 short pause, " Is she blind ? " 
 
 " Yes," said Maud, sorrowfully. 
 
 " You don't say so — may I have this ? " he 
 asked, taking a bit of honeysuckle from the 
 basket. 
 
 " If you please," replied Maud, colouring : 
 and then, taking her sister's hand, she led her 
 quietly away, without again regarding the 
 horsemen. 
 
 " I say, O'Neill," said the young man, 
 mounting his horse. 
 
 "Well?"
 
 INTRODUCTION. 9 
 
 " I like her — the tallest ; she is very pretty 
 — the sort of girl I should like to marry." 
 
 " If she were not so young/' said the other, 
 riding forward. 
 
 " She will grow older, I conclude," said the 
 first speaker, drily, as he fastened the honey- 
 suckle into his button-hole. " There is a little 
 of the lion about her ; but I think I rather 
 like that. 
 
 b 3
 
 MR. WAHRENNE, 
 
 THE MEDICAL PRACTITIONER, 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 Of gentle blood (part shed in honour's cause 
 While yet in Britain honour had applause) 
 Each parent sprung — 
 * * * *• « 
 
 Stranger to civil or religious rage 
 The good man walked innoxious through his age : 
 No courts he saw, no suits would ever try, 
 Nor dared an oath, nor hazarded a lie. 
 
 Pope. 
 
 Mr. Warrenne was a Medical Practitioner. 
 This term is of comparatively modern date ; 
 and is applied to the Pariahs of the medical
 
 12 MR. WARRENNE, 
 
 profession. Men who are compelled to unite 
 the acquirements of a physician with those of 
 a surgeon. Impossible to be more highly 
 educated, impossible to be worse remunerated 
 than the medical practitioner. In a country 
 where wealth is the sole standard of social 
 position, and where talent is comparatively 
 disregarded, the condition of the medical prac- 
 titioner, and still more, the condition of his 
 family, is far from enviable. He may enjoy 
 the confidence of his patients; he may possi- 
 bly be admitted to the tables of the higher 
 classes in the neighbourhood; but his family 
 holds an uncertain and slippery position, the 
 most trying to the manners and teazing to the 
 temper that can be conceived. No gentleman 
 ought to enter this profession. He is galled 
 and wounded at every step. He finds success 
 evade his grasp like the rainbow, unless he 
 can descend to a multitude of wretched frauds, 
 which no gentleman can ever learn to practice. 
 And a large number of medical practitioners,
 
 THE MEDICAL PRACTITIONER. 13 
 
 not being gentlemen, lie finds the greater part 
 of his practice swept out of his hands by arti- 
 fices which excite his disdain, but which equally 
 empty his pocket. For Mr. Warrenne was a 
 gentleman. His family traced their origin to 
 one of those hardy pirates of the Mediter- 
 ranean, who founded some of the oldest French 
 and Italian houses. 
 
 One of his ancestors had served in the 
 court of Charlemagne, and it had been his 
 particular duty to hand the inkstand to that 
 accomplished monarch, when he affixed (liter- 
 ally) his sign-manual to papers of state. A 
 descendant of this man had migrated to Eng- 
 land, after the capture of Robert the Con- 
 queror's son, and another Warrenne had 
 brought from the Holy Land the crest, (the 
 panther's head erased,} which was in use in the 
 family at the present day. 
 
 But Mr. Warrenne's great grandfather ran 
 through every acre that belonged to the family, 
 and so put a finishing stroke to the gentility of
 
 14 MR. WARRENNE, 
 
 the house. Mr. Warrenne's father was recom- 
 mended by a relation to engage in the medical 
 profession, and in an evil hour he complied. 
 He had enjoyed a flourishing practice in the 
 neighbourhood, where his son now followed 
 his steps. But various causes had contributed 
 to diminish the number of Mr. Warrenne's 
 patients. Some old and staunch friends had 
 died ; but many families had withdrawn from 
 his care, some because his politics varied from 
 their standard of excellence, and others be- 
 cause his religious views were neither factious 
 nor factitious enough to meet the exact wishes 
 of the more enthusiastic among his patients ; 
 for it is a recognised fact that a medical man 
 may think only about his pills, and is not 
 permitted to form or to express an opinion 
 on the two most important interests of man- 
 kind — for, we live in a free country. 
 
 It was comfortable to Mr. Warrenne to 
 reflect that he had never lost a patient 
 except from a cause that was honourable to
 
 THE MEDICAL PRACTITIONER. 15 
 
 himself; but this consolation did not put 
 money in his purse. 
 
 Happily, he had enough to subsist upon, 
 even though fortune had played him a more 
 slippery turn — and this made him unpopular. 
 People were very angry when they found that 
 they could not starve the man, do what they 
 would. 
 
 He had four children — the eldest was a 
 surgeon in the Company's service — the second 
 was about to accept a situation as clerk in a 
 merchant's house — the two youngest were 
 girls, already introduced to the reader; but 
 now, where my story begins, almost grown to 
 women. 
 
 His wife, a woman of remarkable beauty, 
 had died of consumption many years back, 
 under singular and painful circumstances. Her 
 disorder had appeared to be arrested, and Mr. 
 Warrenne had left her for a few days without 
 hesitation, to transact some business of import- 
 ance in London. The night before his return
 
 16 MR. WARRENNE, 
 
 she died. Alice, the youngest child was sleep- 
 ing with her, and on waking in the morning, 
 found her mother a corpse. The terror struck 
 her blind; but her blindness was not imme- 
 diate, she was attacked by amaurosis, and in a 
 few weeks was deprived of sight. There was 
 not a ray of hope for her recovery : all the skill 
 of science can avail nothing in that form of the 
 complaint. A few years afterwards, and another 
 affliction visited the family. The eldest son 
 who was preparing for orders, and who had 
 gained high honours at college, was seized with 
 a brain fever, and carried to the grave at the 
 end of a few weeks. Mr. Warrenne never men- 
 tioned his name, and any allusion that might 
 suggest his memory, would render him grave 
 and silent for hours. When his wife died, he 
 withdrew at once from all attempt at society — 
 he had experienced the unsatisfactory nature 
 of their irregular and embarrassed interchange 
 of visits with the neighbours — and he was too 
 glad to put a stop to it at once. His beautiful
 
 THE MEDICAL PRACTITIONER. 17 
 
 daughters, therefore, stood a great chance of 
 remaining on his hands — they went to no balls, 
 and gave no dinners — but Mr. Warrenne liked 
 their company — and he had laid up some money 
 that he might not be under the necessity of 
 selling them. 
 
 But they were very happy considering. Mr. 
 Warrenne had given them an education very 
 much above their station — and this circum- 
 stance, together with the old pirate blood that 
 would sometimes stir in their veins, prevented 
 their being quite so humble as their position 
 required. The retired hosiers on the hill, often 
 remarked that those Warren nes did not seem 
 to know their places — but this must have been 
 partly a conjecture of the hosiers, because they 
 merely saw the Warrennes passing to church, 
 or walking in the evenings among the surround- 
 ing lanes. 
 
 They lived in an old white house roofed 
 with tiles — which stood in a sort of court-yard 
 with large chestnut trees overshadowing the
 
 18 MR. WARRENNE, 
 
 front windows. A passage paved with coloured 
 tiles ran through the house, and terminated in 
 a door, half glass, which opened into the gar- 
 den ; a long straight strip of ground divided by 
 an old wall from the orchard, a square plot of 
 the deepest and greenest turf, was bordered by 
 a belt of trees and evergreens, that served as a 
 screen to divide the kitchen garden from that 
 appropriated to flowers. Never was such a wall 
 for all kinds of choice fruit — peaches, necta- 
 rines, apricots, and the finer kinds of plumbs — 
 never was such a gay parterre as the border be- 
 neath that south wall — never were peas and 
 strawberries, and all sorts of vegetables and 
 fruit in earlier profusion than in that garden. 
 And it was tended by a very singular image of 
 old Adam — a humpbacked German, who having 
 followed Mr. Warrenne home from Leyden 
 many years back, when he had given himself a 
 six week's holiday to the Continent, had re- 
 mained a fixture in the family ever since, and 
 was likely so to continue as long as he lived.
 
 THE MEDICAL PRACTITIONER. 19 
 
 The other remarkable character on the premises 
 was Mr. Warrenne's white horse, who is des- 
 tined to play an important, though unconscious, 
 part in this history.
 
 20 MR. WARRENNE, 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 A lady, like to Juno in her state, 
 
 Upon the air her golden tresses streaming, 
 
 And with celestial eyes of azure beaming ; 
 
 V 'F >P 7F 7§r 
 
 But through the rigid pride and pomp unbending 
 
 Of beauty and of haughtiness, 
 Sparkled a flattery sweet and condescending : 
 And, from her inmost bosom sent, 
 Came accents of most wondrous gentleness ; 
 Officious and intent 
 To thrall my soul in soft imprisonment. 
 
 From the Italian of Guidi. 
 
 But though the Warrennes did not give din- 
 ners, they had one or two friends. The Cres- 
 wicks, whose grounds were only divided from 
 their garden by a narrow lane, were their
 
 THE MEDICAL PRACTITIONER. 21 
 
 nearest neighbours ; and though they employed 
 Mr. Warrenne in a medical capacity, were dis- 
 posed to be courteous to his family. 
 
 Colonel Creswick was a frightful little man, 
 with an immense red nose, and a row of longr 
 yellow teeth, which he was always displaying. 
 He intended his gestures to be very insinu- 
 ating ; and it is possible that a strong-minded 
 person might contemplate him without a shud- 
 der. *Mrs. Creswick was very tall, and so ex- 
 tremely thin that it was astonishing how she 
 contrived to exist. Her hair, once as black as 
 night, was now perfectly grey ; her eyebrows, 
 drawn straight above her dark blue eyes, still 
 retained their raven hue. Her forehead was 
 wide and noble ; her nose very thin, and of a 
 bad outline ; her mouth firm, with thin, flexible 
 lips, always fast closed in repose. While you 
 spoke to her, those searching eyes were fixed 
 steadily on your face, watching every shade of 
 expression ; but you could never detect a move- 
 ment on her part which seemed to denote that
 
 22 MR. WARRENNE, 
 
 she breathed. It was almost terrible : it was 
 the face of an accusing spirit ; and a person 
 would be very bold to hazard a falsehood be- 
 neath the gaze of that earnest countenance. 
 
 The Colonel and herself were always scru- 
 pulously polite to each other. He called her 
 madam — sometimes dearest madam, and bent 
 his hideous face sideways, like a bird, when he 
 addressed her; and she replied in few words, 
 civil, calm, and stern, which had usually the 
 effect of reducing him to silence. Maud War- 
 renne used to think that there was some fear- 
 ful mystery between them; but the mystery 
 was — the marriage of two persons so dis- 
 similar. 
 
 They had no children ; but Mrs. Creswick's 
 brother, a gentleman high in the civil service 
 in India, had begged that she would take the 
 charge of his only daughter, until he returned 
 to England. She accepted the office, and re- 
 ceived the young lady at the Ferns, during the 
 pauses of her education at a very expensive
 
 THE MEDICAL PRACTITIONER. 23 
 
 finishing school. But, an heiress and a spoilt 
 child, Florence Reynolds had formed her own 
 character, without Mrs. Creswick's assistance. 
 At the age of eighteen she left school, and 
 came to reside permanently with her aunt, 
 until her father should arrive to claim her. 
 She had, for the last six years, been learning 
 everything, and therefore it is needless to 
 remark that she knew nothing; but she 
 was a beauty as well as an heiress, and her 
 ignorance rather enhanced her attractions with 
 the reasoning sex. 
 
 It had been the wish of Mrs. Creswick to 
 encourage an intimacy bet ween Maud Warrenne 
 and her niece ; but there existed no good 
 understanding between these young ladies. 
 Florence, proud of her beauty, her fortune, 
 and the marked deference always paid to her 
 expectations by her aunt's guests, was not am- 
 bitious to cultivate the acquaintance of the 
 daughter of their medical man; and, perhaps, 
 with all her vanity, it sometimes crossed her
 
 24 MR. WARRENNE, 
 
 mind, that Maud, in her white frock and straw 
 bonnet, was superior to herself in intelligence, 
 in character, and even in beauty. Maud, 
 therefore, was subject to the heiress's scornful 
 indifference, or, still more galling, to her punc- 
 tilious condescension. Keenly sensible of the 
 difference in their fortunes, and still more 
 deeply conscious of the older blood that her 
 own family could boast, she bore the obnoxious 
 manners of Miss Reynolds in haughty silence ; 
 and would never have crossed her path, but for 
 the sincSe affection she felt for Mrs. Creswick. 
 Maud had fulfilled her early promise of 
 beauty. At eighteen she was an exquisite 
 specimen of the Norman style, which is 
 directly opposed to the attributes of Grecian 
 beauty. The long slender neck, the elegant, 
 but almost attenuated, limbs, the slight, flexible 
 waist, are entirely distinct from the full and 
 massive undulations of the Greek form. Her 
 dark grey eyes, with their long eyelashes, 
 looked almost black by candle-light. Her
 
 THE MEDICAL PRACTITIONER. 25 
 
 Norman nose, sharply defined, and raised 
 boldly from the face, with high, well-cut nos- 
 trils, and the fine, slight expression of her 
 upper lip, gave a spiritual outline to her 
 countenance ; while her dark brown hair and 
 eyebrows seemed almost painted upon her 
 clear, broad forehead, so striking was the con- 
 trast of their colour. 
 
 Florence Reynolds was rather above the 
 middle height, by no means slight in her per- 
 son, though her waist was beautifully small. 
 She had a remarkable profusion of the very 
 lightest brown hair, almost of a flaxen colour 
 — long, half- opened blue eyes, a high slight 
 nose, and a mouth the colour of a rose-leaf. 
 Her complexion was dazzling — of Saxon fair- 
 ness, which the slightest exercise dyed with a 
 brilliant flush ; and her toilet (a considerable 
 item in the catalogue of a beauty) was always 
 costly and well-chosen. Had Maud been able 
 to dress as expensively as Miss Reynolds, and 
 
 had her position been as defined, it is probable 
 vol. i. c
 
 26 MR. WARRENNE, 
 
 that the number of their admirers would have 
 been equally divided; — as it was, Florence was 
 everywhere recognized as a great beauty, and 
 Maud now and then spoken of as a pretty 
 girl. 
 
 Florence was an accomplished coquette. She 
 had the art, by a thousand soft and indefinite 
 means of attraction, to increase the effect of her 
 personal charms ; — and very few men were ever 
 in her society without being, at least for a time, 
 intoxicated by the singular fascination of her 
 manner. She had already refused several pro- 
 posals which she had invited by every means in 
 her power, but which appeared to cause her 
 very great astonishment when they really came. 
 She could not be accused of seeking to marry 
 — she enjoyed too much this unprincipled use 
 of her influence — confident that it would be 
 always in her power to make a splendid match 
 when she should be weary of breaking hearts. 
 
 But among her numerous admirers, she had 
 not one more sincere or more disinterested than
 
 THE MEDICAL PRACTITIONER. 27 
 
 Leonard Warrenne. When he first returned 
 from Switzerland, where he had spent two or 
 three years in acquiring the modern languages, 
 he found himself always a welcome guest at 
 the Ferns. Mrs. Creswick extended to him the 
 regard she entertained for his sister; and 
 Colonel Creswick was glad to see any one at 
 dinner with whom he could gossip. He was 
 constantly inviting him, and thus he was thrown 
 into the dangerous way of Miss Reynolds. For 
 some time he contented himself by a distant 
 and silent admiration of her dazzling person — 
 but this mute worship was very little suited to 
 the imperious taste of Florence. She suddenly 
 thawed in her manner, which had at first par- 
 taken of the icy nature of her intercourse with 
 his sister, and engaged him frequently in con- 
 versation, sometimes careless and airy, and 
 sometimes verging upon the sentimental. For 
 some time Leonard had the comfort of imagin- 
 ing, that he simply felt an interest in observing 
 
 her character, which he fancied to be singularly 
 
 c 2
 
 28 MR. WARRENNE, 
 
 engaging. He thought she was judged hardly, 
 and misunderstood by those who pronounced 
 her to be heartless, and artful, and vain. He 
 considered Mrs. Creswick, with her stem and 
 immoveable ideas of integrity, to be wholly un- 
 fitted to pass judgment on the capricious and 
 delicate shades of her niece's character. But 
 these fine platonic investigations ended, as they 
 always do end — in an ardent, though in this 
 case, hopeless attachment. He never for a mo- 
 ment dreamed of aspiring to the hand of the 
 wealthy heiress — he was aware that his situation 
 rendered such hopes out of the question. But 
 he fancied, like a very young man, that he 
 could remain under all circumstances devoted 
 to her service — that like a knight of the ancient 
 chivalry from which he has descended, he might 
 hold himself for ever bound to obey her slight- 
 est wish, without a hope of any future recom- 
 pence. He saw that she was aware of his 
 passion — and that she did not appear offended 
 by a devotion at once so absolute and so un-
 
 THE MEDICAL PRACTITIONER. 29 
 
 presuming. But these fanciful visions were 
 destined to be somewhat rudely interrupted. 
 
 Mr. Warrenne, who had for some months 
 been looking out for a situation for his son, at 
 length obtained one in the house of a Mr. 
 Thomason in London. It was necessary, that 
 Leonard should set off directly to begin his 
 duties ; and the day before he left he called, as 
 a matter of course, at the Ferns, to take leave 
 of the Creswicks. 
 
 As he crossed the lawn to go up to the 
 house, he saw Florence walking at a little dis- 
 tance under the trees, leading her pet dog by 
 her side in a blue ribbon. A slight degree of 
 bashfulness at the sight of his " bosom's lord/' 
 made him hesitate an instant before approach- 
 ing her. 
 
 But Florence was, fortunately, oppressed by 
 no such timidity. 
 
 u Good morning, Mr. Leonard," said she, 
 coming slowly towards him, and shaking hands 
 with the most friendlv air in the world ; " if
 
 30 MR. WARREN NE, 
 
 you did not recognize me, I think, at least, you 
 might remember Fidelio ! 
 
 ** It is impossible that I could fail to reco- 
 nize you," said Leonard ; " but I thought you 
 might, perhaps, wish to be alone." 
 
 " Oh ! I don't consider you an interrup- 
 tion," said Florence graciously. 
 
 " How well Fidelio is looking," said Leonard. 
 " I think his coat must now be white enough 
 to content you ; it is like swansdown." 
 
 " Yes ; my present maid consents to wash 
 him every morning. You know that was the 
 parting point with Anaise ; and Aunt fires wick 
 vexed me so by taking her side. That is the 
 worst of people who live in the country. They 
 have such limited notions. But your sister 
 is not with you to day ?" — 
 
 "No," said Leonard; "she was engaged 
 with Alice." 
 
 "I cannot tell how it is, but your sister 
 and I do not get on together," said Florence. 
 
 A bystander might have remarked that
 
 THE MEDICAL PRACTITIONER. 31 
 
 unless Maud had a rather unusual fancy for 
 being the recipient of all Miss Reynolds' 
 varieties of pride and temper, it was not likely 
 that she would get on with her very fast. 
 
 " She is afraid of you," said Leonard, 
 smiling. 
 
 "No; but am I so very formidable?" 
 asked Florence, with an arch smile. 
 
 " Very \" replied Leonard, with expression. 
 Florence coloured, and turned to look after 
 her dog. 
 
 " But you were walking V said Leonard. 
 " Yes ; just loitering about," said Florence, 
 moving towards the shrubbery as she spoke. 
 " It is pleasanter here than in the house; don't 
 you think so ? 
 
 " Much pleasanter," said Leonard. 
 " The fact is, that I was glad to make my 
 escape from the drawing room," resumed 
 Florence. "We have been having rather a 
 cloudy interview ; a council of three upon the 
 merits Sir Frederic Manning.
 
 32 MR. WARRENNE, 
 
 This sort of confidence was not unusual 
 with Florence, for, with that kind of openness 
 which Bacon pronounces to be uncomely, she 
 gave publicity to her affairs by discussing them 
 with any intimate acquaintance ; nor was she, 
 in the present instance, quite correct in her 
 statement, for the discussion had not so much 
 turned upon the merits of Sir Frederic, as 
 upon the demerits of her conduct towards 
 him. Mrs. Creswick having taken upon her- 
 self to expostulate with her upon the undue 
 encouragement she had given that gentleman ; 
 while the Colonel sometimes complimented 
 11 Dearest Madam " upon her delicacy and 
 penetration, and sometimes shifted round and 
 defended the harmless levity of his " fair, but 
 capricious, niece. " 
 
 " I have not the honour of an acquaintance 
 with Sir Frederic," said Leonard ; " but I hope 
 his merits are very great. They should be 
 surpassing," ,he added, with fervour, " if they
 
 THE MEDICAL PRACTITIONER. 33 
 
 are to meet with the success that report has 
 assigned to him." 
 
 Florence sighed deeply, and remained silent 
 a few moments ; and then said with a sweet 
 smile. 
 
 " Confess, Mr. Leonard, that it is very hard 
 to be subject to the interference of others in 
 an affair of this nature." 
 
 "I am sure," said Leonard, with some 
 embarrassment, " that your best friends would 
 leave you to the decision of your own heart." 
 
 " Ah ! but my heart is so exacting, you 
 can't imagine," said Florence, playfully. " I 
 demand too much ever to be happy in my 
 future lot." 
 
 u I trust, at least," said Leonard earnestly , 
 " that you will never cease to remember how 
 much power rests in your own hands." 
 
 "The enviable power of saying 'no!'" 
 returned Florence smiling. Then turning 
 towards him with an appearance of the most 
 engaging frankness, she said : — " Come Mr. 
 
 c 8
 
 h 
 
 M MR. WARRENNE, 
 
 Warrenne, give me your opinion. I am sure 
 you are a true friend. Here is a gentleman 
 with a very large property — a title,, which you 
 know is always an advantage — an excellent 
 character, and, for anything I know, to the 
 contrary, a tolerable understanding — and yet 
 I am so perverse, that I cannot manoeuvre the 
 possessor of all these advantages into an inter- 
 esting point of view ! — Que fair e?" 
 
 "You do not seriously ask my advice," 
 replied Leonard ; and, with all his enthusiasm, 
 he felt somewhat chilled that she should pro- 
 pose such a question to him ; knowing, as he 
 4#fc she did, his sentiments towards herself. 
 "I am sure that you must look upon a mar- 
 riage of convenience with unmixed feelings of 
 abhorrence — 
 
 * The weariest and most loathed worldly life, 
 That age, ache, penury, and imprisonment 
 Can lay on nature, is a paradise ' 
 
 compared to such a fate." 
 
 " But you are so romantic ! " said Florence,
 
 THE MEDICAL PRACTITIONER. 35 
 
 shaking back her long ringlets, and looking 
 softly up to him ; " I never met with such a 
 Paladin in all my life ! M 
 
 "Miss Reynolds/' said Leonard, stopping 
 short, and taking a sudden resolution, " I came 
 to-day to take leave of you ; and some freedom 
 may, perhaps, be allowed or forgiven to me in 
 parting. I think you have not now to learn 
 how deeply I am devoted to your interest ; nor 
 at what expense of my own, I would, if it were 
 possible, secure your happiness ; and this — you 
 may believe me — without a thought of ever 
 presuming to expect from you the recompense 
 even of a smile. It is not likely that you 
 should ever be placed in a situation where you 
 could derive benefit from my services ; but if 
 such a time should come, give me the pleasure 
 — the consolation of knowing that you would 
 call upon me for my exertions with as much 
 frankness as if you summoned a brother to 
 your aid." 
 
 Leonard, half-frightened at his own bold-
 
 30 ME. WARRENNE, 
 
 ness, and breathless with excitement, waited 
 for her reply. 
 
 Florence burst out laughing. 
 " Really, Mr. Leonard," said she, " you ex- 
 ceed every hero I ever read of! I only wish 
 I were the Princess Micomicon, that I might 
 reply to you in the same strain ! I am quite 
 sorry that you are going ; for we might have 
 enacted quite a little melodrame together, to 
 enliven the awful solitude of Erlesmede." 
 
 Leonard felt for an instant as if a thunder- 
 bolt had fallen at his feet and shivered his airy 
 castles into fragments : and no one can des- 
 cribe the pain that can sometimes be com- 
 pressed into a few moments. 
 
 He felt that he could have forgiven her for 
 not loving him, but not for proving herself un- 
 worthy of his love. For it was unworthy to 
 receive with scorn as sincere a tribute as was 
 ever laid at the feet of beauty. 
 
 But he collected himself, just as the silence 
 began to grow embarrassing.
 
 THE MEDICAL PRACTITIONER. 37 
 
 " I have yet another favour to ask of you, 
 Miss Reynolds," he said, calmly, "which I 
 trust you will consider less extravagant than 
 my last ; it is, that you will kindly present my 
 compliments to Colonel and Mrs. Creswick, 
 and express my regret that I had not time left 
 to bid them farewell." 
 
 Then taking off his hat, and bowing deeply, 
 before Florence could recover from her surprise 
 at this transition of manner, he crossed the 
 lawn and disappeared among the trees.
 
 38 MR. WARRENNE, 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 Aug. — I would that these last hours were double-winged 
 To fly more quickly from us — could you stay, 
 I'd lull the fine sands in the warning glass 
 As if to hinder the swift foot of time. 
 So I would speed our parting ; as it must be. 
 What is done, can be better looked upon 
 Than what is yet to do. 
 
 Anon. 
 
 It was evening, and Mr. Warrenne and his 
 family were assembled in the drawing-room. 
 Mr. Warrenne was writing at a table by the 
 light of a single lamp, surrounded by books 
 and notes, by leaves of manuscript, and all the 
 litter of an author. A beautiful branch of a 
 tropical creeper with purple blossoms, was placed
 
 THE MEDICAL PRACTITIONER. 39 
 
 in a small jar of Bohemian glass, and fell trail- 
 ing upon the table-cover. Mr. Warrenne was 
 engaged in a botanical work, to which he de- 
 voted almost every moment of his leisure time. 
 He was very tall and thin with a bald forehead 
 — retaining much of the old fashioned courtesy 
 in his manner, which the remarkable gentleness 
 of his voice and disposition prevented from 
 being formal. He was remarkably indepen- 
 dent in his habits ; — it was his way to rise and 
 light his own fire always at four o'clock in the 
 morning, all through the winter — and had he 
 been ever so rich, he would very ill have borne 
 to let it be done for him by a servant. Not a 
 line of copy would he ever suffer Maud to 
 transcribe, either for his great work on botany, 
 or for the numerous contributions which he 
 sent to scientific or medical journals. He was 
 a philanthropist in the purest and truest sense 
 of the word — a philanthrophist who did not 
 neglect the claims of his own fireside, in an ab- 
 stract zeal for the advancement of society. In
 
 40 MR. WARRENNE, 
 
 his earnest endeavour to elevate the character 
 and improve the comfort of the working classes, 
 to which some of his smaller works were de- 
 voted, he had not forgotten to do all that is in 
 the power of a parent to elevate and improve 
 the characters of his own children. He had 
 given them the best education that his utmost 
 means would allow ; — and had set before them, 
 both by precept and example, those serious 
 duties, and that high tone of feeling, without 
 which the most accomplished education is of 
 little worth. The consequence was that Mr. 
 Warrenne's children were refined — not in the 
 fineness of their cambric handkerchiefs, or the 
 cut glass of their dressing cases, but in a sense 
 of honour that in these days would be consi- 
 dered as fastidious, and a sensibility to the feel- 
 ings of others, which is the true morale of good 
 breeding, and a veiy agreeable substitute for 
 etiquette. 
 
 Leonard and Maud were walking up and 
 down the room together arm in arm. Alice,
 
 THE MEDICAL PRACTITIONER. 41 
 
 seated in the shade, was playing a niotivo from 
 one of Beethoven's masses on the seraphine. 
 Her rounded figure, her dazzling complexion, 
 and bright rings of brown sunny hair, all 
 looked soft and indistinct in the dim light. 
 Leonard although very like Maud, had not his 
 sister's pretensions to regular beauty — his fea- 
 tures were less critical — his complexion much 
 darker — and his short black hair and marked 
 brows were wanting in the splendid texture and 
 colouring that distinguished hers; — but he had 
 the same brilliant eyes and glittering teeth — 
 and his figure, hardly taller than Maud's, pos- 
 sessed the same elegance of form and gesture. 
 
 " What a beautiful movement that is !" said 
 Leonard, stopping in his walk near the sera- 
 phine. "Do, Alice, play the Benedictus over 
 again." 
 
 Alice began to repeat the movement. 
 
 " You go to-morrow," said Maud, resting 
 her head on his shoulder, "I can think of 
 nothing else ; what shall I do without you V
 
 42 MR. WARRENNE, 
 
 "But when I was in Switzerland nearly 
 three years, Maud," said Leonard, " you man- 
 aged to do without me then ?" 
 
 " I was not so old then," said Maud, " I did 
 not so much feel the need of having somebody 
 to talk to — to tell my troubles to." 
 
 " But you know, Maud, a philosopher should 
 rely entirely on the consolations of his own 
 mind !" 
 
 " You are like Hamlet, Leonard." 
 
 " How so ?" 
 
 " Your philosophy is just as deep as his ; — 
 you have a profound saying for every emer- 
 gency — but you feel exactly like other people 
 all the time." 
 
 Leonard smiled, and made no reply to this 
 attack — perhaps the little interview- of the 
 morning had taught him that it was not the 
 toothache alone that had power to unnerve a 
 philosopher. 
 
 " I hope, papa, we don't disturb you, roam-
 
 THE MEDICAL PRACTITIONER. 43 
 
 ing about V* said Maud, as they came to Mr. 
 Warrenne's table iu their promenade. 
 
 ''My dear! — disturb me !" said Mr. War- 
 renne, looking up from his writing and bring- 
 ing his ideas down by degrees to the present 
 company, " no, not at all, I assure you." 
 
 "Well now, Maud," said Leonard as they 
 crossed back to the seraphine again — " what are 
 your troubles at this present time ? not any 
 very particular ones I think." 
 
 " Leonard ! — it is so like a man to think 
 that women have no troubles !" 
 
 " I am all attention," said Leonard, smiling, 
 H I only ask for information." 
 
 " Well, for instance," said Maud, " what 
 do you think of Miss Reynolds' behaviour to 
 me?" 
 
 " Miss Reynolds ! " said Leonard with a 
 start. 
 
 " Oh ! I cannot tell you how she annoys 
 me;" said Maud, eagerly, "fifty times I have 
 said to myself that I would never go to the
 
 44 MR. WARREN NE, 
 
 Ferns again and expose myself to the cold inso- 
 lence of her manners — but I like Mrs. Cres- 
 wick too well to stay away altogether." 
 
 "Did you see Miss Reynolds this morn- 
 ing ?" 
 
 u Yes, I met her in the garden." 
 
 " And how did she behave V s 
 
 " Oh ! she is a little capricious, you know." 
 
 " I understand." 
 
 "And then the reports which are spread 
 and believed against papa from time to time — 
 don't you call that a very reasonable ground of 
 complaint ?" 
 
 "Why in that respect, my father fares no 
 worse than other doctors," said Leonard; "it is 
 a profession that is calculated to make friends 
 and foes from causes over which the individual 
 has no control. And I agree with you, that no 
 calumny is too extravagant to be believed — 
 especially if it relates to an honest man." 
 
 " Very true— but it vexes me all the same," 
 replied Maud.
 
 THE MEDICAL PRACTITIONER. 45 
 
 " It does not vex my father you see/' re- 
 turned Leonard, " when people circulate a false- 
 hood of extra magnitude about him, he pon- 
 ders a little and then sets it down to a partial 
 derangement of intellect on the part of the 
 inventor. He cannot comprehend pure malig- 
 nity — especially when it is unprovoked." 
 
 "He hardly knows the mischief it does 
 him," said Maud. 
 
 " I think he does — but he treats it as he 
 would treat a bad crop of potatoes. He would 
 be angry with nobody. I don't think he could 
 bear malice. Ah ! Maud, when shall you and 
 I have schooled our minds to such an even 
 balance V 
 
 " I should like to see them all burnt \" 
 cried Maud, with a sudden burst of indignation. 
 
 Alice stopped playing in wonder — Leonard 
 began to laugh at Maud's eager face, and Mr. 
 Warrenne looking up from his writing, said 
 quietly — " No, my dear, you would not ;" and 
 then addressed himself to his task again.
 
 46 MR. WARRENNE, 
 
 "I thought/' said Leonard, taking a seat 
 beside Maud on the sofa, " that Miss Reynolds 
 looked more beautiful than ever this morning." 
 
 It seemed, that though he had resolved 
 never to think of her again, he could not help 
 talking of her. 
 
 " Indeed ! What was her dress ?" asked 
 Maud. 
 
 " Oh, something magnificent — a silk I sup- 
 pose ; of rose colour mixed with black." 
 
 " Ah ! that would suit her fair complexion 
 admirably," said Maud. 
 
 " Is she not fair V exclaimed Leonard. 
 
 " Very — nothing can be fairer," replied 
 Maud. 
 
 " And her eyes ! — those long blue eyes !" 
 exclaimed Leonard, softening more and more 
 towards Miss Reynolds as he recalled her seve- 
 ral attractions. 
 
 " I do not like her," said Maud, laughing, 
 H now I have praised her enough. I shall say 
 nothing in favour of her eyes."
 
 THE MEDICAL PRACTITIONER. 47 
 
 " After all," said Leonard, as if thinking 
 aloud, " what allowance should be made for 
 her ! so rich, so nattered ! — it is no wonder 
 that she sometimes forgets to be considerate." 
 
 " Leonard, my dear boy," said Mr. War- 
 renne, looking up from his writing, " I wish 
 you would have the goodness to mend me a 
 pen." 
 
 This was one of the few things that his 
 children could manage to do for him, as his 
 sight was not good enough to mend pens by 
 candle-light. Leonard started up, and went to 
 the table. 
 
 " It is a singular thing," said Mr. War- 
 renne, laying down his pen, and making the 
 papers before him straight and square, " it is 
 a very strange fact, and one to which I wish to 
 draw your attention, that, in the vegetable 
 kingdom, we do not find any of the species 
 become extinct, from time to time, as in the 
 animal kingdom. Some specimens are, it is 
 true, very rare, but they do not actually dis-
 
 48 MR. WARRENNE, 
 
 appear from the face of the earth — Leonard, 
 rny dear, this pen is a little too soft — of course 
 I do not now refer to those productions of 
 nature which existed prior to what is popularly 
 called the creation of the world. 
 
 Poor Maud ! This last remark brought 
 her to her third trouble. The clergyman of 
 the parish was on very unfriendly terms with 
 Mr. Warrenne, because he believed, in common 
 with Dr. Buckland and most other geologists, 
 that the creation of the earth was antecedent, 
 by many centuries, to the creation of man. It 
 was not enough that he never obtruded his 
 opinions — he held them ; and Mr. Ranger 
 hated him with a bitterness that might not 
 seem to be very evangelical. But most people 
 said that of course Mr. Warrenne must have 
 done something wrong ; for it was not likely 
 that a clergyman would be prepossessed against 
 any one without good cause. 
 
 " Ah ! Mr. Ranger, Leonard ! " cried Maud, 
 who had forgotten this trouble until the men-
 
 THE MEDICAL PRACTITIONER. 49 
 
 tion of the creation had recalled it to her 
 mind. 
 
 Leonard looked up smiling from his pen. 
 "Aye, Maud," he said, "that is rather a more 
 substantial trouble than the little airs of Miss 
 Reynolds, or the gossip of half-a-dozen crazy 
 old women/'' 
 
 "I can't think how it is that we are so 
 beset/ 5 said Maud. 
 
 "Why, my dear, because we are poor," 
 said Leonard, " rich people smile and fawn on 
 each other, but they turn their rough side to 
 us; we don't get any of the 'hollow sun- 
 shine' some poet speaks of; and I really 
 don't know that we are much the worse for 
 the omission, for when we find a friend he 
 must be sterling." 
 
 " Like Mr. Scudamore," said Maud. 
 
 " Exactly ; by the way, Maud, I half ex- 
 pected he would have called in this evening ; 
 for when I went yesterday to bid him goodbye, 
 
 VOL. I.
 
 50 MR. WARRENNE, 
 
 he was gone to R , on business, and now I 
 
 shall go away without seeing him." 
 
 " How I shall scold him if he does not 
 come ! " said Maud. " Stay, is not that a 
 step?" 
 
 "That is Karl, coming from the stable," 
 returned Alice. She was always an authority 
 upon footsteps. 
 
 " Were you talking of Mr. Scudamore, my 
 dear ? n said Mr. Warrenne looking up, a few 
 minutes afterwards. 
 
 " Yes, papa." 
 
 "I met him this morning, my dear, and he 
 said he would breakfast with us to-morrow, that 
 he might shake hands with Leonard before he 
 went." 
 
 " Oh ! that is right, Leonard," said Maud. 
 " You are sure now that you have got every- 
 thing ready ? " 
 
 "Everything, Maud." 
 
 "How often I shall write to you! and 
 Alice too."
 
 THE MEDICAL PRACTITIONER. 51 
 
 " Oh yes ! take care that Alice writes, don't 
 let her grow lazy." 
 
 They all stood round, unwilling to break 
 up and go to bed. The last night. 
 
 " My dears," said Mr. Warrenne, as he laid 
 by his manuscript, " do you know what o'clock 
 it is?" 
 
 Nobody knew; but nobody moved. 
 
 " And we must breakfast at half-past seven, 
 because Leonard starts at eight," continued 
 Mr. Warrenne. 
 
 " Yes, papa," said the group. 
 
 But while they were hesitating, the matter 
 was settled by Dinah, the housemaid, who 
 popped her round face in at the door, with the 
 formula so familiar to the country practi- 
 tioner — 
 
 " Please sir, you are wanted." 
 
 At this well-known sound, Mr. Warrenne 
 bade a hasty good night to his children, 
 and followed the round face out of the room. 
 Leonard and Alice consented to go up 
 
 d 2
 
 52 MR. WARRENNE, 
 
 stairs ; and Maud sat down to wait her father's 
 return, and to stifle her tears like a true 
 woman, lest the sight of them should add to 
 his regret.
 
 THE MEDICAL PRACTITIONER. 58 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 Now were it not Sir Scudamour to you, 
 Dislikeful paine so sad a task to take ; 
 Mote we entreat you with this gentle crew 
 Is now so well accorded all anew, 
 That as we ride together on our way 
 Ye will recount to us in order dew 
 All that adventure — 
 
 Spencer. 
 
 Mr. Scudamore was the most intimate friend 
 of the Warrennes. He was about fifty years 
 old ; still a handsome man, of a stately figure, 
 and a fine imposing carriage. He was re- 
 markably good natured — not by any means 
 addicted to literature — but as honest and 
 straightforward a man as ever lived. He had 
 been formerly in the army ; but he did not
 
 54 MR. WARRENNE, 
 
 seem to have felt much partiality for that 
 profession, since he sent his two sons to India 
 in the Company's Service, and had been heard 
 to declare that he would rather see them 
 sweeping the streets than serving Her Majesty. 
 And this, not from any feeling of disloyalty ; 
 but from a floating idea that they would find 
 a good crossing a better provision than any- 
 thing they might pick up under the royal 
 auspices. 
 
 He had a widowed sister living with him. 
 This lady had married a gentleman, who left 
 behind him at his death, nothing but a very 
 large amount of debts. Mr. Scudamore had 
 paid his brother-in-law's debts, and had offered 
 his sister a home; and the world, which is 
 famous for its accurate judgments, had given 
 him a reputation for riches, on account of an 
 action which had greatly diminished whatever 
 he might have before possessed. But Mr. Scuda- 
 more did not particularly care what the world 
 said. He was a bit of good-natured misan-
 
 THE MEDICAL PRACTITIONER. 55 
 
 thrope ; he took to farming with some degree 
 of success, laughed at his sister, whose excen- 
 tricities were almost unbounded — encouraged 
 Leonard's philosophy — admired Maud — petted 
 Alice, and was extremely popular with Mr. 
 Warrenne and his family. He it was who, 
 from time to time, gladdened the heart of Mr. 
 Warrenne with specimens of those rare and 
 beautiful flowers which would have been out of 
 his reach but for the zeal of his friend — and 
 he it was who was wanting to complete the 
 breakfast party on the last morning of Leo- 
 nard's stay, and whose coming would be posi- 
 tive assurance that it was actually half-past 
 seven o'clock, for his punctuality was infallible. 
 The morning was bright and fresh — cool 
 enough at that early hour to bring deep roses 
 into Maud's cheeks — for she had been round 
 the orchard prying at the foot of every mossy 
 tree to collect the last violets that still lingered 
 there, to make a cluster for Leonard. It 
 would be long enough before he would get
 
 56 MR. WARRENNE, 
 
 another, with the dew still upon it. Half-past 
 seven would come. Alice had given notice of 
 Mr. Scudamore's approach before any one else 
 had detected his stately step, and Maud began 
 to pour out the tea ; not daring to look at 
 Leonard, but trying to talk cheerfully with 
 every one else. 
 
 "And so Leonard goes to day/' said Mr. 
 Scudamore, as soon as he had taken his seat 
 at the table. It was a self evident truth ; but 
 it filled Maud's eyes with tears notwithstand- 
 ing — she turned away without making any 
 reply. 
 
 Poor Mr. Scudamore, who had said, 
 according to his custom what was uppermost 
 in his mind, and who had possibly meant his 
 remark to be consolatory, now did his best to 
 retrieve his error. 
 
 " Well, never mind," said he, taking her 
 hand. " Dick will be over here, one of these 
 days." 
 
 " Dick " was his eldest son, in whom he
 
 THE MEDICAL PRACTITIONER. 57 
 
 imagined all human perfections to be centred. 
 And it was a proof of his extreme partiality to 
 Maud, that while he gave flowers to her father, 
 and pet birds to Alice, he always, in his mind's 
 eye, reserved " Dick " for Maud ; and, without 
 exactly intending it, he was constantly ap- 
 prising her of his intentions. Maud dried her 
 eyes half smiling. "And how is Mrs. Thorns 
 this morning \" she asked. 
 
 " Pretty well, I fancy ; the old lady is 
 digging a pit in the cowslip meadow." 
 
 "What is she doing that for?" asked Alice. 
 
 "I don't know. She and Jack Robins 
 were hard at work all yesterday/' 
 
 " Tell her I shall come and help her one 
 day soon," said Maud. 
 
 " Do," said Mr. Scudamore, " I shall take 
 you both home with me — I have some ripe 
 strawberries for Alice." 
 
 " Has the grandfather really some ripe 
 strawberries?" asked Alice; " why Karl says 
 that ours are not turning yet." 
 
 - d3
 
 58 MR. WARRENNE, 
 
 It was Maud who had fixed the venerable 
 appellation of grandfather upon Mr. Scudamore, 
 because with a woman's readiness she had de- 
 tected that he was still a little vain of his fine 
 appearance ; and he bore it very well, conscious 
 that he was many years younger than her 
 father. 
 
 And now the coach drove up ; five minutes 
 before the hour — and happily coaches give but 
 little time for farewells— the luggage is pounced 
 upon, the passenger hurried in, and the pang 
 of parting cut as short as may be. 
 
 l( There, he is out of sight now," said Mr. 
 Scudamore to Maud, who had watched with 
 tearful eyes the rapid progress of the coach 
 along the road until it disappeared among the 
 dewy hedgerows. 
 
 " Yes, he is out of sight ;" repeated Alice, 
 who could no longer hear the wheels. 
 
 u What will he do in London V said Maud, 
 in a desponding tone. 
 
 "Do V said Mr. Scudamore, cheerfully, —
 
 THE MEDICAL PRACTITIONER. 59 
 
 " make his fortune to be sure — come home as 
 rich as a jew — buy Forrel Court when Mrs. 
 Jane Digby pleases to shuffle off this mortal 
 coil; and marry the prettiest woman (after 
 yourself) in the cdunty." 
 
 Maud had not heard distinctly the last part 
 of this sentence, for Mr. War renne had stepped 
 back into the passage to put on his great coat, 
 and Maud had darted in to help him on with 
 it. Mr. Warrenne always declined this piece of 
 service on her part, but he generally found him- 
 self invested in his garment before his sentence 
 was quite finished. And though of course 
 people who have no valets to put on their great 
 coats are, and ought to be, despised by those 
 who have, I question if Mr. Warrenne would 
 have been half so much pleased with the atten- 
 dance of a servant as he was with that of his 
 bright-eyed daughter. Karl now hobbled to 
 the front door, leading the old white horse, and 
 followed by a beautiful fawn-coloured grey- 
 hound, which coursed round the horse and
 
 GO ME, WARRENNE, 
 
 leaped upon him, without in the least disturb- 
 ing his serenity. 
 
 u Shall we take Ondine with us I" asked 
 Maud, as she stooped to caress the greyhound. 
 
 " To be sure," said Mr. Scudamore. 
 
 " Karl \" said Maud, laughing, "you must 
 make up your mind to go without Ondine for a 
 whole morning." 
 
 The old German nodded — and then draw- 
 ing the tufted mane of the white horse through 
 his rough hands, he said slowly — " When the 
 golden youth comes back from London with a 
 great deal of money the father will have a 
 better horse to ride, young lady." 
 
 As Karl neither spoke nor understood more 
 English than was necessary to conduct his small 
 purchases in the village, the conversations 
 between him and his young ladies always 
 passed in his own language. 
 
 " Ey, ey \" repeated Karl, fastening a small 
 steel chain to the collar of the greyhound, and 
 handing the end of it to Alice, " never tell me
 
 THE MEDICAL PRACTITIONER. 61 
 
 that the golden youth will not be rich one 
 day." 
 
 " But what were you saying just now grand- 
 father, about pretty women," asked Maud, as 
 they set out upon their walk. 
 
 " About pretty women ? Let me see — oh ! 
 I was saying that Miss Reynolds was, (next to 
 you), the prettiest woman in the county." 
 
 "Not exactly that," said Alice. " The 
 grandfather was saying, that Leonard would 
 marry the prettiest woman in the county when 
 he came back." 
 
 " I hope to goodness that he will never 
 marry Miss Reynolds," cried Maud, " though 
 fortunately there is no fear of that. I hardly 
 know indeed, if she considers him even worth 
 laughing at !" 
 
 " I should wot mind taking you a heavy bet 
 of that," said Mr. Scudamore, "perhaps you 
 do not recollect, Mistress Maud, that where I 
 sit in church, I have a perfect view of Miss
 
 62 MR. WARRENNE, 
 
 Reynolds as well as Master Leonard — and I 
 have caught some looks passing." 
 
 " There ! we see now how the grandfather 
 employs himself in church/' said Alice. 
 
 "I always knew that he behaved very 
 badly/' replied Maud, "You know, Alice, 
 I told you one Sunday that he was making me 
 laugh when the child cried so loud." 
 
 " As for you/' said Mr. Scudamore, " attack- 
 ing Maud in his turn, "the reason why you 
 dislike Miss Reynolds is very evident ; you are 
 jealous of her." 
 
 " Oh ! grandfather — jealous of Miss Rey- 
 nolds !" cried Alice. 
 
 " If I were jealous of anything, it would be 
 of her beautiful horse," said Maud ; " I should 
 so like to ride on horseback." 
 
 " When you were in India, grandfather, did 
 you ever ride on an elephant ?" asked Alice. 
 
 u Oh, once or twice ; just to say that I had 
 done so ; but it is not the usual mode of travel- 
 ling over there, Miss Alice."
 
 THE MEDICAL PRACTITIONER. 63 
 
 "Alberic went on an elephant to a tiger 
 hunt/* said Alice; "I should so like to ride 
 on one. Oh, you do not know how I long to 
 travel." 
 
 " But dear Alice/' said Maud, " you would 
 have all the fatigue, and none of the pleasure." 
 
 " None of the pleasure ! Oh, Maud ! think 
 of the climate, and the scent of foreign flowers, 
 and the numberless sounds of a tropical 
 country — and a foreign language, only fancy 
 how strange that would be; and the notes 
 of the birds — and the large-leaved trees — and 
 the stir of everything, so different to what we 
 have here ; and, of course, somebody to describe 
 to me what was passing. How different to be 
 told at the instant — There go the women 
 with their muslin veils, carrying their brazen 
 vessels to the tank; and there, farther on, 
 what a flight of many-coloured birds — and now 
 the sky is hot and pink, and the great palm 
 trees are as still as death — and the large white 
 mosque in the middle of the plain is so distinct
 
 64 MR. WARRENNE, 
 
 in the sunlight that you can count every arch : 
 how different this would be on the spot, to 
 hearing it from a book as I do." 
 
 " We must ship you out to Alberic," said 
 Mr. Scudamore, laughing — 
 
 " I should be a troublesome visitor/' said 
 Alice, smiling. 
 
 "And, besides, I could not spare you," 
 added Maud. 
 
 "Well, well— when Dick comes home, we 
 shall see who can be spared," remarked Mr. 
 Scudamore. 
 
 u I am sure// said Maud, " I never in my 
 life was so tired of any body's name as of his ; 
 and such a name ! — ( Dick V" 
 
 " But where is Forrel Court, grandfather ?" 
 asked Alice. 
 
 " Not know Forrel Court !" said Mr. Scu- 
 damore, " to my fancy it is the prettiest place 
 within thirty miles; and they say that Mrs. 
 Jane Digby was altogether as handsome — thirty 
 years ago."
 
 THE MEDICAL PRACTITIONER. 65 
 
 "And who is Mrs. Jane Digby?" asked 
 Maud. 
 
 "What ! have you never heard your father 
 speak of Mrs. Jane Digby?" 
 
 " Never," returned Maud. 
 
 " Well, then, you ask him." 
 
 " But he won't tell us," said Maud. 
 
 " He never tells us any gossip," remarked 
 Alice. 
 
 " No, we are obliged to come to the grand- 
 father for all the cancan of the neighbourhood," 
 said Maud. 
 
 " And so Mrs. Digby " said Alice. 
 
 " No, no — a couple of children ; you have 
 no business with such stories," said Mr. Scuda- 
 more. 
 
 " Why, is she an enemy of papa's, like Mrs. 
 Nicholls ?" asked Alice. 
 
 " Oh no, my dear, nothing of the sort." 
 
 "Now, grandfather, don't be provoking/ 5 
 said Maud ; " I will hear it !" 
 
 "Aye, when Queen Maud says she will,
 
 66 MR. WARRENNE, 
 
 there's nothing for it" said Mr. Scudamore. 
 
 ' ' Well, you must know, then, that old Digby, 
 
 her father, left the most singular will ever made 
 
 by man I do believe. She was his only child, 
 
 and he therefore left her his whole estate and 
 
 fortune, with this absurd condition — that she 
 
 i 
 should forfeit it all if she ever married. Now, 
 
 you know it almost looked as if the man wished 
 
 his daughter to die an old maid ; for, though a 
 
 handsome woman enough, few people would 
 
 care to take her without so much as an acre of 
 
 the property." 
 
 " Poor Mrs. Digby," said Maud. " Not one 
 of her admirers was true-hearted enough to 
 stand such a test \" 
 
 u I am sure she was better without them 
 then," said Alice. 
 
 " To be sure," said Maud j " only one 
 wouldn't like to be given up." 
 
 " But what has papa to do with the story ?" 
 asked Alice. 
 
 " Ask him," said Mr. Scudamore.
 
 THE MEDICAL PRACTITIONER. 67 
 
 " I am sure if papa had loved her, he 
 would have married her without any fortune/' 
 said Maud. 
 
 " But suppose it was what you ladies call 
 an unrequited attachment V said Mr. Scu- 
 damore. 
 
 " Well, and I dare say a great many ladies 
 were attached to papa," said Alice, simply. 
 
 " There— get in both of you," said Mr. 
 Scudamore, putting them both in at the open 
 gate of his garden ; " at your age you know 
 nothing at all about such matters I should 
 hope." 
 
 "And where will you fasten Ondine that 
 she may not worry your sheep ?" asked Alice. 
 
 " Just outside the porch; she shall have 
 some dinner when we get our luncheon." 
 
 " And some strawberries — just a few, 
 grandfather; she loves strawberries," said 
 Alice. 
 
 "Well, she shall have two or three. Hallo ! 
 Jack Robins ! where is the Old Lady ?"
 
 68 MR. WARRENNE, 
 
 "If you please, Sir/' said Jack Robins, a 
 decent farm servant in round hat, smock frock, 
 and leather gaiters, " missus be down in the 
 well." 
 
 " In the well?"— ■ 
 " Yes, Sir ;" and not deeming any explana- 
 tion necessary, he touched his hair, and walked 
 on. 
 
 " I suppose she is not drowned, or he would 
 not take it so coolly," said Mr. Scudamore, 
 laughing • "and if she likes to spend her time 
 in the well, I know no reason why one should 
 hinder her. But if you have no objection, we 
 will just go and see what she is about." 
 
 They went through the garden into the 
 woodyard, and so on to the farm-yard, where at 
 the other side, just in front of Jack llobins's 
 cottage, stood the well. As they came up 
 there emerged from the top a very old straw 
 bonnet, tied down with an older silk handker- 
 chief, and further, the whole person of Mrs. 
 Thorns.
 
 THE MEDICAL PRACTITIONER. 69 
 
 "Well, old lady/' said Mr. Scudamore, 
 "have you been down to take a peep at the 
 stars V 
 
 "No, brother," said that lady, bounding 
 from the margin of the well to the ground ; 
 "but I thought some of the brick-work was 
 loose within, so I made them put down a 
 ladder, and looked to it myself." 
 
 " And you are not wet through, I declare," 
 said Mr. Scudamore. 
 
 "No; I did not go so low as the water," 
 replied Mrs. Thorns; "there's a brick fallen, 
 brother, and you had better see about it." 
 
 Mrs. Thorns was not five feet high, as active 
 as a bird, and an incessant talker. Her eyes 
 were as bright and as restless as a hawk's, and 
 her features were tolerably regular. It was 
 impossible to dress in older or more shabby 
 clothes than she did, and this quite as a matter 
 of choice, for her brother would willingly have 
 supplied her with better, if she could have been 
 induced to put them on ; and as she held the
 
 70 MR. WARRENNE, 
 
 purse for house expenses, and at least once 
 a week (according to her own account) saved 
 him from utter ruin, she could have conducted 
 her wardrobe upon different principles, if such 
 had been her pleasure 
 
 " Well, young ladies," said she, turning 
 suddenly upon them ; * Neither of you married 
 yet ? What a world it is ! Nobody marries 
 now. And yet you are not so bad looking ; I 
 don't see why you should not pick up some- 
 body, or you either, if you would leave off pre- 
 tending to be blind." 
 
 " Oh, Mrs. Thorns !" said Alice. 
 
 " Blind ! look at her — no more blind than I 
 am — see how she steers clear of that crib. Is 
 it a cow or a horse feeding there ? Eh, Miss 
 Alice \» 
 
 " Oh ! a cow, Mrs. Thorns ; I know that 
 by her breathing." 
 
 " Ah ! don't tell me ; you see her as well 
 as I do. But come in, and let us get something 
 to eat. I am as hungry as a hunter."
 
 THE MEDICAL PRACTITIONER. 71 
 
 The strawberries and cream were ready for 
 them when they went in, with various other 
 good things. Mrs. Thorns did not sit down to 
 table, but walked briskly backwards and for- 
 wards, stopping before her plate, and taking a 
 mouthful every now and then, and talking in- 
 cessantly ; and it was one of her peculiarities, 
 that she would carry on a long conversation 
 about persons of whom her audience had never 
 heard, and did not appear in the least annoyed 
 when she found that they were quite in the 
 dark as to the subject of discourse. 
 
 " I never saw you looking so well," said 
 Mr. Scudamore as Maud laid aside her bonnet, 
 and smoothed back her exquisite hair with her 
 hand ; — " your walk has done you good — you 
 have grown too in the last few months. I wish 
 with all my heart that Dick was here at this 
 moment." 
 
 u Oh dear !" said Maud, impatiently, the 
 glow on her cheek growing deeper, "I wish
 
 72 MR. WARRENNE, 
 
 you would let e Dick ' alone from this time 
 forth I" 
 
 " Yes, and I don't think I was ever so 
 frightened in my life," said Mrs. Thorns, com- 
 ing to a stand-still for a minute before her 
 plate, "as the day John Butler's horse ran 
 away with him and fell down the chalk-pit — 
 nobody thought that Eleanor would ever have 
 got over it — I fancied myself she would have 
 gone into a decline ; and as Lydia had died of 
 something of the sort, it might almost be said 
 to run in the family — but Livingstone gave us 
 hopes from the first, and if it had not been for 
 that, I don't know how Mrs. Hemmings would 
 have kept up her spirits." 
 
 As soon as she had finished this exordium, 
 she set off again walking up and down the 
 room ; and every one present being used to her 
 style, it was not thought necessary to enquire 
 who Mrs. Hemmings, and John Butler, and 
 Eleanor, and the others, were. As soon as Mrs
 
 THE MEDICAL PRACTITIONER. 73 
 
 Thorns had finished this discursive kind of meal, 
 she drew on her York tan gloves and walked 
 briskly off, leaving Mr. Scudamore to entertain 
 his guests; and he took them to feed the 
 pigeons, and see the youngest calves and pass 
 judgment on the horses and pry into the barns 
 — all which proceedings Alice seemed to enjoy 
 quite as much as her sister. 
 
 In the course of their wanderings they came 
 upon Mrs. Thorns, who was busy digging a 
 kind of trench in the cowslip meadow in com- 
 pany with Jack Robins ; which Mr. Scudamore 
 told her looked very like a grave, and he sup- 
 posed she was qualifying for the office of sexton 
 when it should be vacant. 
 
 Mrs. Thorns flung up a spadeful of earth ; 
 told him to mind his own business ; and then 
 setting her battered straw bonnet more firmly 
 on her head, she resumed her occupation. e 
 
 Mr. Scudamore walked home with the 
 girls, and as they turned into the lane which 
 
 VOL. I. e
 
 74 MR. WARRENNE, 
 
 led to their house, they met a gay riding party 
 from the Ferns. 
 
 Miss Reynolds was among the foremost, on 
 a pretty slight bay horse ; and by her side rode 
 a Foreign Count wifh a formidable beard, to 
 whose discourse she seemed to incline a very 
 attentive ear. 
 
 Florence never looked handsomer than on 
 horseback. Her high close habit set off the 
 outline of her beautiful figure — and the cloud 
 of thick fair curls that escaped from her hat, 
 gave an air of softness to that masculine 
 coiffure. She bowed, coldly enough as she 
 passed on, and turning to the Frenchman made 
 some remark on Maud which seemed to amuse 
 him very much. The little Colonel who was 
 behind with some ladies, reined up, and be- 
 stowed some compliments on the sisters, mixed 
 with sly insinuations on Mr. Scudamore for 
 securing such fair companions in his walks. 
 
 " And how anybody can think," said Maud, 
 as soon as the Colonel was out of hearing,
 
 THE MEDICAL PRACTITIONER. 75 
 
 " that Leonard ever cared one straw for that 
 horrid Miss Reynolds — except indeed allowing 
 her to be handsome, which we all do." 
 
 " And defending her, Maud ; — you know he 
 always defended her," said Alice. 
 
 " And looking at her in church — I will 
 answer for that part of the story," said Mr. 
 Scudamore. 
 
 " I am sure, if he ever did think of her, 
 I hope he will forget her very name, now he is 
 away from her," said Maud. 
 
 " And bring home a rich bride from the 
 parish of Farringdon Without," said Mr. Scud- 
 amore. 
 
 " Well, that would be one way to shorten 
 his servitude in the great city."
 
 76 MR. WARRENNE, 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 Lady F. — He is your slave 
 
 And as such use him. 
 
 The City Madam 
 
 How some men creep in skittish Fortune's halls 
 While others plays the idiots in her eyes ! 
 
 Triolus and Oressida. 
 
 It may be supposed that Leonard Warrenne 
 did not much enjoy his new mode of life. The 
 transition from a beautiful part of the country 
 to the heart of London, was disagreeable 
 enough ; but the class of people among whom 
 he was thrown, as a merchants clerk, was still 
 more repulsive to his taste. He was obliged to 
 dine at an eating-house, near his office, which
 
 THE MEDICAL PRACTITIONER, 77 
 
 was frequented by people " in his own class of 
 life," — to use his own phrase, in speaking of 
 them,- — whose tone of voice, language, ges- 
 tures, sentiments, and mode of eating, sent a 
 thrill of horror through him, whenever he 
 came near them. He formed no acquaintance 
 with any of these persons, who all belonged to 
 different establishments, and in the house to 
 which he was attached, there were but two 
 other clerks in his particular department — 
 with both of these he was on very civil terms 
 — with the rest of the officials he was hardly 
 acquainted by sight. 
 
 The office where he daily attended was a 
 small dark room, with that peculiar air of 
 uncleanliness inseparable from every place in 
 the city; a place where you find your hands 
 want washing every ten minutes, though you 
 cannot exactly detect the cause of the defi e- 
 ment. There was a high desk and stool — that 
 uneasy throne which in so many cases leads to 
 the sovereignty of wealth — the desk divided in
 
 78 MR. WARRENNE, 
 
 half by a brass rail and green curtain, on one 
 side of which the ancient clerk plied his pen ; 
 the other, was the appointed place of Master 
 Leonard. This old clerk, the head of the 
 establishment .under the partners,) was a man 
 of some intelligence, and much kindness of 
 heart, with rough manners, and an unaccount- 
 able habit of swearing great oaths on small 
 Dccasions. The second clerk was a hard head- 
 ed, sober man of business, ungainly in person, 
 not very grammatical in language, but alto- 
 gether free from the strong peculiarities of his 
 elder compeer. 
 
 It was early one morning, that Leonard 
 and Mr. Mills were hard at work, and Mr. 
 Bennet, the next eldest clerk thinking it was 
 rather too soon to begin, took his seat on the 
 tall fender, and enlivened the party with a 
 little agreeable conversation. 
 
 " So I understand that Mr. Thomason gave 
 a grand ball last night," he began. 
 
 " Ah ! he always does the thing in style,"
 
 THE MEDICAL PRACTITIONER. 79 
 
 said Mr. Mills, with a horrible oath, that made 
 Leonard drop his pen. 
 
 " There was a new beauty, they tell me," 
 said Mr. Bennet. 
 
 " Ah ! what was her name !" asked Mr. 
 Mills, with his head under the lid of his desk, 
 searching for papers. 
 
 " Miss Reynolds, I think they said." 
 
 Leonard dropt his pen again. 
 
 "Perhaps they will make up a match 
 between her and the musical gentleman," 
 said Mr. Mills, with a sneer. 
 
 " Perhaps so," said Mr. Bennet ; " for they 
 say she is a great heiress. 
 
 " Ah ! if you can get a little money into 
 the bargain ; eh ?" said Mr. Mills. 
 
 "To be sure; I must be going now," 
 said Mr. Bennet, getting off the fender. 
 
 "Hollo! here comes the musical gentle- 
 man," said Mr. Mills, sticking his pen behind 
 his ear. 
 
 A young man, very well drest, with his
 
 80 MR. WARRENNE, 
 
 hat on, and his walking stick in the pocket 
 of his coat, threw open the door and walked 
 quietly in. 
 
 He was one of those very few persons that 
 are worth regretting — most people being so 
 entirely devoid of character that you never 
 take the trouble to wish that they were better 
 than they are. A physiognomist who saw Mr. 
 Courtenay would think it worth while to regret 
 that he had not more consideration for others 
 — a less assured opinion of himself. He was 
 what Carlyle calls a "reality." There was 
 decision and firmness in every movement — 
 penetration in every look, and a contempt for 
 the world and its ways in the sarcastic tones of 
 his voice. He looked like a Saxon ; with very 
 light hair and eyes, short straight features, a 
 stature much above the ordinary height, that 
 was slight only because he was young, and 
 that graceful outline of the head and bust 
 which may sometimes be found in persons with
 
 THE MEDICAL PRACTITIONER. 81 
 
 old blood in their veins, but which it is hope* 
 less to seek in the parvenu. 
 
 The clerks wished him good morning; and 
 Leonard, seeing a gentleman enter who 
 seemed to belong to the concern, turned round 
 and bowed slightly. 
 
 He paid not the smallest attention to these 
 salutations; but sauntering up to the chimney- 
 piece, with his hat still on, he took up one or 
 two cards which lay there, held them close to 
 his face to read them, and then laying them 
 down, and turning with his back to the fire, 
 said leisurely — 
 
 " Is my uncle here, Mr. Mills ? " 
 " No, Mr. Courtenay, he is not." 
 The young man took up all the cards again, 
 adjusted his hat, but did not take it off, and 
 then began singing, in a low voice, the air of 
 a popular opera. This habit had gained him 
 the sobriquet of the musical gentleman among 
 the clerks in Mr. Thomason's establishment. 
 Leonard, who, though he had not spent 
 
 E 3
 
 82 MR. WARRENNE, 
 
 many years abroad,, had caught all the courtesy 
 of foreign manners — who never entered a shop 
 without lifting his hat, nor sat next an artisan, 
 in a coach, without addressing to him some 
 cheerful remark — was rather startled by the 
 scornful indifference evinced by the nephew of 
 the principal to the domestics of the house. 
 He felt keenly the want of courtesy in Mr. 
 Courtenay's manner; especially as he could 
 not get rid of the impression that his own 
 descent was gentle, though adverse circum- 
 stances had placed him in a humble position ; 
 but he contented himself with thinking that 
 Mr. Courtenay was not a philosopher, or he 
 would be scrupulously civil to his inferiors, and 
 he tried to consider that he was only encoun- 
 tering one of those checks that patient merit 
 has been in the habit of taking, every now and 
 then, for a good many centuries past. 
 
 "Would you write those letters to Ham- 
 burgh this morning, Mr. Courtenay ? " asked 
 Mr. Mills, after a long silence on the part of
 
 THE MEDICAL PRACTITIONER. 83 
 
 the clerks, and three distinct airs from Mr. 
 Courtenay, principally from the Opera of 
 Parisina. 
 
 Mr. Courtenay continued singing the latter 
 part of the Air " Ah tu sat ch' insieme," — took 
 up a pen from Mr. Mills's desk — looked at it 
 — drew towards him the sheet of paper which 
 that gentleman proffered — dipped his pen, and 
 turned to Mr. Mills— 
 
 " In German, eh ? " he said, in a dry, quick 
 tone. 
 
 " If you please, sir," returned Mr. Mills, 
 with humility. 
 
 Mr. Courtenay, still standing, wrote rapidly 
 about half a page in the German character, 
 when a voice was heard outside the door, 
 coupled with the shuffling and scratching noise 
 of a large dog, trying to force its way into the 
 room. 
 
 " All right ! " said Mr. Courtenay, raising 
 his head from his writing, " here I am ! " 
 
 The door burst open, and two young men
 
 84 MR. WARRENNE, 
 
 entered, after having, with great difficulty, 
 driven back an immense Newfoundland dog 
 and shut him out. 
 
 They hurried up to Mr. Courtenay, who left 
 his writing, and stood talking in the middle of 
 the room. These were two of his cousins; 
 one of whom was quartered in the Tower, and 
 the other, a young man from college. 
 
 It was some time before either cousin could 
 speak articulately, there was so much laughing 
 to be got through at the idea that they were 
 really, for the first time in their lives, standing 
 in a merchant's office. They had not very 
 clear ideas upon the subject; they thought 
 they should have found their cousin selling 
 something; but as Mr. Thomason's house was 
 in connection with some great lead mines, and 
 as lead is not unrolled on a counter and sold 
 by the yard, in this country, they were doomed 
 to be disappointed. Mr. Courtenay, as junior 
 partner, disposed of the lead in a different 
 manner.
 
 THE MEDICAL PRACTITIONER. 85 
 
 " I was hard at work, when you came in," 
 he said drily, as soon as the two cousins had 
 come to an end of their remarks and 
 laughter. 
 
 " No — were you ? — for Heaven's sake, do it 
 again," said the officer, " it would kill me to 
 see you \" 
 
 " Pity to defer your martyrdom," said Mr. 
 Courtney, going back to the desk, and re- 
 suming his pen. 
 
 He wrote the remainder of his letter— the 
 officer watching the process with great 
 curiosity. 
 
 " I say, if you have no objection, I will let 
 in that dog," said the collegian, " he seems to 
 be rather uneasy in his mind." 
 
 " Pray do," said Mr. Courtenay. 
 
 The dog rushed in, and upset whatever 
 could be upset, in a moment ; — two wicker 
 chairs, and a basket of waste papers. He then 
 ran violently against the coal scuttle, and hav- 
 ing scattered its contents, the officer and the
 
 S6 MR. WARRENNE, 
 
 college gentleman agreed in the propriety of 
 his being made to retire — but with a kind re- 
 collection of his too susceptible feelings, they 
 thought it advisable to withdraw also; but 
 they had still so much to say to Mr. Courtenay, 
 that they dragged him between them, his letter 
 still unsigned, into the yard that looked upon 
 the Thames. 
 
 " There V* said Mr. Mills, looking round 
 and ascertaining that Mr. Courtenay was gone, 
 — that is the musical gentleman ; — a nice man 
 isn't he ? — there's his letter left for signature, 
 and only wanting half an hour to post time. 
 I wonder who is to pick up the coals V 9 
 
 Leonard wondered too — but he thought he 
 had better offer his assistance. Fortunately 
 the porter came in, and saved him the 
 trouble. 
 
 Mr. Mills turned to his desk — swore at the 
 unsigned letter— then turned back and swore 
 at the porter— and finally to make all comfort- 
 able swore at himself. At last he drew back
 
 THE MEDICAL PRACTITIONER. 87 
 
 the green curtain, and peeped at Leonard on 
 the other side of the desk. 
 
 " I say, Mr. Warrenne \" 
 
 " Well, Mr. Mills," said Leonard, smiling 
 at the wrinkled visage presented so suddenly 
 to his view. 
 
 " I wish you wonld step into the yard, and 
 see if that Mr. Courtenay is coming back to 
 sign his letter," (another oath.) 
 
 " I will go and ask him if you like it," said 
 Leonard, laying down his pen. 
 
 It was a pleasant task to have to address a 
 young man who could not treat him with com- 
 mon civility ; — but Leonard was a philosopher. 
 He walked into the yard where all three gen- 
 tlemen were playing noisily with the Newfound- 
 land dog. It was rather difficult to arrest his 
 attention ; however, he walked up close to the 
 group, and said, in a distinct voice — 
 
 " Mr. Courtenay ?" 
 
 " Eh !" said Mr. Courtenay, turning sud- 
 denly round,
 
 88 MR. WARRENNE, 
 
 Leonard gave his message. 
 
 " Oh ! that will do/' said Mr. Courtenay, 
 turning away to play with the dog again. 
 
 Leonard stood undecided — he had asked a 
 question, and he did not clearly see that he 
 had received an answer — but Mr. Courtenay 
 did not appear to observe that he was 
 waiting. 
 
 " I say — about Chiswick," said the military 
 cousin. 
 
 " Do you go V asked Mr. Courtenay. 
 
 u Yes — Lady Jane has secured him/' said 
 the college cousin with a laugh. 
 
 " Lady Jane has a very pretty girl staying 
 with her though," said the military cousin, by 
 way of excuse. 
 
 " My dear fellow, there is no reason why 
 you should not be sometimes civil to the wo- 
 man, though she is your aunt," said Mr. 
 Courtenay drily. 
 
 Both the cousins laughed very much at this 
 remark, and the military cousin took up a
 
 THE MEDICAL PRACTITIONER. 89 
 
 piece of stick and threw it into the river ; the 
 dog plunged after it, and then the party had 
 to scramble down into a barge to get the 
 animal back again. 
 
 Leonard finding it in vain to wait, went 
 back to Mr. Mills. That gentleman was ex- 
 ceedingly indignant when he related what had 
 taken place. He went on grumbling until Mr. 
 Courtenay returned, and then he said, in the 
 crossest tone that he dared to use, that he did 
 not imagine those letters would be in time for 
 the post to-night — but he supposed it did not 
 signify. 
 
 " Quite in time/' said Mr. Courtenay, affix- 
 ing his name to the letter, and writing off* the 
 other almost as he spoke — " Mr. Cooke had 
 better take them immediately." 
 
 He turned his head slightly towards Leo- 
 nard as he spoke, and folded and sealed without 
 delay. 
 
 Mr. Cooke had been the name of Leonard's 
 predecessor; and it was one proof, among
 
 90 MR. WARRENNE, 
 
 many, of the slight consideration in which he 
 held his inferiors, that Mr. Courtenay could 
 never recollect or apply their names properly. 
 He did not seem to think such people had any 
 business with a name; and it was one of his 
 conditions with his grooms that they should 
 each in succession submit to be called Bob — 
 that having been the name of his first groom. 
 
 Mr. Warrenne, sir, is engaged in particular 
 business," said Mr. Mills shortly. 
 
 " Eh ? he had better go, I think," said Mr. 
 Courtenay, very quietly, but in a tone that 
 seemed to leave no opening for dispute. 
 
 " There then, Mr. Warrenne," said Mr. 
 Mills, sullenly, putting the letters in his hand, 
 "if they are too late, they can go four days 
 hence and that is some comfort." 
 
 Mr. Courtenay did not condescend to hear 
 this observation ; he took up his stick, adjusted 
 his hat, and went out fastening his gloves to 
 the tune of the Redowa Polka.
 
 THE MEDICAL PRACTITIONER. 91 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 Lav. — And then we might pursue our projects and our 
 devices towards my Lady Annabella — go to, there's a con- 
 ceit newly landed. — The Honest Man's Fortune. 
 
 Dor. — Strange secrets, sir, 
 
 Should not be made so cheap to strangers. 
 
 Beaumont and Fletcher. 
 
 The only amusement, and almost the only- 
 occupation, that Leonard enjoyed, out of his 
 daily business, was that of writing home. 
 When he returned from the office he was too 
 tired, both in body and mind, to exert himself; 
 he seldom cared to draw or to study, and he 
 generally spent his evenings on the sofa with 
 a French or German novel in his hand, unless 
 he had a letter to begin or to finish to Maud.
 
 92 MR. WARRENNE, 
 
 In these letters it may be supposed that 
 Mr. Courtenay, with his ungracious manners, 
 was not spared. Leonard, in common with 
 many people who have a morbid touch of me- 
 lancholy in their composition, had a keen sense 
 of the ridiculous, and a considerable fund of 
 humour ; and Maud, though highly indignant, 
 often laughed heartily at his pictures of Mr. 
 Courtenay and the other clerks. Leonard had 
 plenty of time to make himself familiar with 
 the original of his portrait. Mr. Courtenay, 
 who had been absent abroad during the first 
 few weeks of his servitude, now came to the 
 office almost every day — overlooked the clerks 
 — worked, or not, .as his humour dictated — 
 dispatched everything he undertook with an 
 ease that was perfectly surprising, and regu- 
 larly called Leonard " Mr. Cooke." Whenever 
 he did this, Mr. Mills seized the first op- 
 portunity of his absence to take an angry 
 pinch of snuff, and to say in his bitterest 
 manner —
 
 THE MEDICAL PRACTITIONER. 93 
 
 "Almost time, I think, that he found out 
 your name, Mr. Warrenne." 
 
 Leonard merely laughed ; he had been 
 
 galled at first by Mr. Courtenay's contempt ; 
 
 but he now began to see it in a ludicrous point 
 
 I 
 of view, and it rather served to divert him. 
 
 Still he daily bowed when Mr. Courtenay 
 entered, and as regularly his courtesy was dis- 
 regarded — but he persevered, because he 
 thought it proper to do so; just as a sailor 
 bows to the quarter-deck, though he never 
 expects it to return his salutation. 
 
 Meanwhile he learned a few particulars 
 respecting Mr. Courtenay and his family, from 
 Mr. Mills, who seemed to know all the con- 
 cerns, both public and private, of Mr. Thom- 
 ason, and every one of his relations. 
 
 Mr. Courtenay was the son of a gentleman 
 of large landed property in the West of Eng- 
 land, which he had involved, through the 
 most unprincipled extravagance, so deeply as 
 to render its value almost nominal. The
 
 94 MR. WARRENNE, 
 
 eldest son had followed closely in the father's 
 footsteps; and everything was going very 
 nicely towards the Queen's Bench, when Mr. 
 Thomason, having no son of his own, offered 
 to take his younger nephew into partnership — 
 he was shrewd enough to see that nothing 
 could be done for the elder one : That hopeful 
 gentleman, however, provided for himself, a 
 few months after his brother had accepted Mr. 
 Thomason's magnificent offer, by a severe fall 
 in a steeple chase, which so far deranged his 
 intellects as to make it needful to place him 
 under restraint. This melancholy condition 
 lasted for a time, and then the injury he had 
 received developed itself in a more decided 
 manner, and at length carried him off. The 
 father grown older, and sobered by the death 
 of his favourite son, no longer indulged in 
 such reckless extravagance; and Mr. Courte- 
 nay, ever since he had been in Mr. Thornason's 
 house, had devoted a large part of his income 
 to paying off the incumbrances on his father's
 
 THE MEDICAL PRACTITIONER. 95 
 
 property, which now, Mr. Mills believed, was 
 in a fair way to be altogether cleared ; so that 
 he did not see at all why there should be no 
 talk of a marriage hetween Mr. Courtenay and 
 his cousin, Miss Thomason. She was a great 
 match, so was Mr. Courtenay ; and Mr. Mills, 
 (or his informant) induced to think there was 
 a great neglect of duty somewhere, that these 
 two fortunes were not brought together. Who 
 was Mr. Mills's informant, Leonard never did 
 or could discover. 
 
 Leonard saw no more of the college cou- 
 sin ; but the military cousin, being quartered 
 in the Tower, which was very near, frequently 
 stepped in to waste Mr. Courtenay' s time, or to 
 entice him on some party of pleasure. 
 
 It was a habit of Mr. Cour ten ay's when 
 any friends came to see him, to talk to them 
 quite as unreservedly before his clerks, as if 
 he had received them in a private room. This 
 might, perhaps, arise from an idea that that 
 class of people are unprovided with ears, or
 
 96 MR. WARRENNE, 
 
 probably from a notion that they could not 
 understand his topics of conversation. Now 
 Leonard had always felt a very strong and 
 foolish desire to enter the army ; he was well 
 aware that his father's means rendered this 
 impossible, but he was not the less interested 
 in every thing connected with the service. 
 The visits of the military cousin were always 
 an agreeable variety for him — for then he 
 heard all the gossip about the cousin's regi- 
 ment — all the scrapes and difficulties, and 
 tricks about money matters — all the sporting 
 transactions — all the lamps and windows that 
 they broke, or wished to break, and all the 
 promotions and exchanges. 
 
 Leonard had sense and integrity enough 
 to perceive that the cousin, in common with 
 a good many of his associates, was a happy 
 mixture of the knave and fool; but still he 
 was an officer, and when for mysterious reasons, 
 he appeared in that phase of costume called 
 undress, he thought him more than commonly
 
 THE MEDICAL PRACTITIONER. 97 
 
 amusing. It sometimes staggered the rever- 
 ance he naturally felt inclined to pay to so 
 brilliant a member of society, to observe that 
 Mr. Courtenay's disdain for the clerks, was 
 nothing compared to the abrupt contempt he 
 evinced continually for his cousin and his 
 companions in arms. He looked down upon 
 them so excessively and so very openly, that 
 Leonard wondered how they could at all sub- 
 mit to his society. 
 
 One morning the military cousin happened 
 to be in the office, waiting for Mr. Courtenay 
 (who was signing some papers,) and pulling 
 about every thing that came under his fingers, 
 in a way that is common to the sex, but which 
 is carried to perfection by officers. When he 
 had demolished four pens and three sheets of 
 blotting paper, and made a little pool of ink 
 on Mr. Mills's desk, Mr. Courtenay turned 
 mildly to him and said, — 
 
 " I almost think you had better put your 
 hands in your pockets." 
 
 VOL. I. P
 
 98 MR. WARRENNE, 
 
 " Well then, when will you have done V 
 asked the cousin, yawning. 
 
 "Impossible to say exactly, when you are in 
 the way — you always contrive to disturb one. 
 The other letter, Mr. Mills." 
 
 Mr. Mills reached the letter for Mr. Cour- 
 tenay to sign, and laid it down in the little pool 
 of ink before-mentioned. 
 
 " Some of your handiwork," said Mr. 
 Courtenay to his cousin, as he lifted up the 
 blotted sheet ; — here, Mr. Mills, let Mr. Cooke 
 make a copy of this paper immediately. It 
 cannot go in that state \" 
 
 " Mr. Warrenne has to go through those 
 accounts of Sim son's people before two o'clock, 
 sir," replied Mr. Mills. 
 
 Mr. Courtenay replied only by a slight nod 
 of the head, which seemed to confirm his order. 
 Leonard took the paper from Mr. Mills, and 
 began transcribing it with all the composure of 
 a philosopher. The cousin stared stupidly on, 
 as if he had a vague idea that he had done
 
 THE MEDICAL PRACTITIONER. 99 
 
 some mischief, and was determined not to be 
 ashamed of it. Mr. Mills uttered a low grum- 
 bling noise which he did not venture to put 
 into words. 
 
 " I say," remarked the cousin, while Mr. 
 Courtenay was waiting for the letter, " I want 
 you to come down the river with me, as soon as 
 you have finished that stupid stuff." 
 
 " With pleasure," returned Mr. Courtenay, 
 " if you will have the goodness to keep your 
 friend Taylor out of my way." 
 
 " Taylor !" exclaimed the cousin. " The 
 best fellow in the world." 
 
 " The very best — but he does not quite suit 
 me. I really cannot undertake to laugh at his 
 bad jokes, and he is never quiet. Ten minutes 
 of Taylor would knock me up for the day." 
 
 " Well, I will get him to take an oar — and 
 then he will not be so noisy." 
 
 " Thank you very much. Is young Osborne 
 still in town ?" 
 
 " I believe so — I saw him the other day." 
 
 f 2
 
 100 MR. WARRENNE, 
 
 " Then get him — he amuses me." 
 
 " I am sure he is noisy enough," said the 
 cousin. 
 
 " Yes, my dear friend — but there are so 
 many different kinds of noise ;" remarked Mr. 
 Courtenay drily. 
 
 " I say — did you dance with Florence Rey- 
 nolds the other night !" asked the cousin, 
 
 " I — no. I asked her, but she was en- 
 gaged." 
 
 " What do you think of her ?" 
 
 " A beautiful creature — but an arrant 
 flirt." 
 
 " Oh ! that does not matter — I like her 
 the better for that." 
 
 " How deep a consolation it would be to 
 her," remarked Mr. Courtenay, mildly, " if she 
 did but know your opinion." 
 
 " O'Neill is wild about her," said the 
 cousin. 
 
 " Yes — I thought he seemed struck," said
 
 THE MEDICAL PRACTITIONER. 101 
 
 Mr. Courtenay, " he danced with her half the 
 evening." 
 
 " He is what some people call a fine man !" 
 said the cousin angrily. 
 
 " Yes — there is plenty of him," returned 
 Mr. Court enay, drily. 
 
 This retort had the effect of soothing the 
 ruffled plumes of the cousin. 
 
 " Did you know," asked the cousin, " that 
 O'Neill was one of the five ?" 
 
 " The five ?" repeated Mr. Courtenay, " I 
 don't quite understand you. Some technical 
 term I dare say — you soldiers are so clever ! " 
 
 " Not at all," remarked the cousin, with 
 much truth, " I mean that he is one of the five 
 who have laid a bet that they will marry Miss 
 Reynolds — five hundred to be paid to the win- 
 ner on the wedding day. 1 " 
 
 Leonard found it very difficult to keep 
 silence — for anything more degrading than this 
 arrangement, more opposed to the spirit of a 
 gentleman, or even of a man, could hardly be
 
 102 MR. WARRENNE, 
 
 conceived. And though he often repeated to 
 himself, that Miss Reynolds had by her own 
 conduct put an end to the interest he should 
 always have cherished for her, yet he never 
 heard her name without a quicker beating of 
 the heart. And he had not even the satisfac- 
 tion of seeing the tranquil glance of contempt 
 with which Mr. Courtenay surveyed his cousin 
 from head to foot. 
 
 "And are you one of this respectable 
 party V asked Mr. Courtenay. 
 
 " No, but Taylor is — it was Le Grange who 
 set it going." 
 
 " And the others V said Mr. Courtenay, with 
 increasing contempt. "Let us have the names 
 of the whole gang \ n 
 
 " Roxby and the Count de Merville," re- 
 plied the cousin ; " but you don't seem to like 
 it. I believe you want to be one yourself — is 
 not it a capital idea V 3 
 
 " It is very military," returned Mr. Courte- 
 nay, quietly.
 
 THE MEDICAL PRACTITIONER. 103 
 
 " How do you mean ?" asked the puzzled 
 cousin. 
 
 "Anything but civil, that is all, my dear 
 friend," returned Mr. Courtenay, receiving the 
 letter from Mr. Mills, which Leonard had just 
 finished copying. 
 
 « And O'Neill did not tell you," said the 
 cousin ; " I thought he told you everything." 
 
 " Not quite everything," replied Mr. Cour- 
 tenay ; there are a few subjects on which he 
 knows that we should differ." 
 
 "Mrs. Ashton, for instance," said the 
 cousin, laughing. 
 
 "Exactly," replied Courtenay. 
 
 " Did he tell you ?" asked the cousin. 
 
 " Tell me what ?" returned Courtenay. 
 
 " That she was dead." 
 
 u l am glad of it!" said Courtenay, in his 
 briefest tone. 
 
 " Why ?" asked the cousin. 
 
 " Bah ! do you think I can explain to you ?" 
 said Courtenay, impatiently.
 
 104 MR. WARRENNE, 
 
 " If you are glad/' said the cousin, " it 
 is more than he was. I never saw a fellow so 
 cut up in my life." 
 
 "Cut up! What did he do it for?" said 
 Courtenay, sharply. " If there is one thing 
 more pitiful than another, it is remorse." 
 
 "But you are such a fellow," said the 
 cousin, in an apologetic tone ; " you must not 
 expect every one to be such a Potiphar as your- 
 self." 
 
 Mr. Courtenay looked at his cousin very 
 earnestly for a few moments, in the hope of 
 extracting some meaning from his last remark. 
 He likewise tried to remember in what single 
 particular his character or conduct resembled 
 that of Pharoah's chief captain ; but finding it 
 to be a vain attempt, he said quietly, " I am at 
 your service now, if you have a mind to go up 
 the river this morning." 
 
 As soon as the door closed upon the 
 cousins, Mr. Mills relieved his feelings in 
 the usual way. With many oaths, he declared
 
 THE MEDICAL PRACTITIONER. 105 
 
 that lie would give warning — he would resign ; 
 he who had been upwards of forty years in the 
 house ! The partners would be very sorry for 
 it afterwards ; but he could not, and he would 
 not, do his work if every jackanapes were 
 allowed to come into the office, and chatter 
 while he was making his calculations. 
 
 Leonard turned aside his anger by a jest, 
 and applied himself to his own business, which, 
 to say the truth, the name of Miss Reynolds 
 had always power to interrupt, and which had 
 been moreover thrown back by the awkward- 
 ness of the military cousin. He had one com- 
 fort, however — he knew her enemies — he might, 
 perhaps, one day, though she despised his aid, 
 be really of use to her. He might yet be able 
 to step in between her and her mercenary and 
 fraudulent adversaries. How gladly would he 
 have called out the whole five ! But he knew 
 that in his situation he might call, but they 
 would not be likely to come when " he did call 
 for them V 
 
 f 3
 
 106 MR. WARRENNE, 
 
 He was not able to go to dinner, owing to 
 the time lost in copying the blotted letter ; but 
 for this contre-temps (which, by the way, hap- 
 pened often enough from one slight cause or 
 other) he forgave Mr. Courtenay with all his 
 heart. " I declare," he thought, " I half like the 
 proud fellow; he despises those five rascals 
 as much as I do myself."
 
 THE MEDICAL PRACTITIONER. 107 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 Sir W. — I am glad so slight 
 
 His power — I know hini for a profligate 
 With broken coffers, to replenish wliich 
 He merely follows her. 
 
 Sheridan Knowles. 
 
 Maud's letters soon confirmed the news which 
 Leonard had heard at the office, respecting 
 Miss Reynolds's stay in town. A young lady 
 who had been her schoolfellow, was about to be 
 married, and the mother had invited Florence 
 to spend a few weeks with her daughter pre- 
 vious to the ceremony. It was an opportunity 
 for extending her conquests that she was not 
 likely to neglect. She detested the compara-
 
 108 MR. WARRENNE, 
 
 tive solitude of Erlesmede, which she bore with- 
 out complaining, only because she anticipated 
 the time, at no distant period, when her father 
 would return and place her at the head of a 
 brilliant establishment, as a preliminary to her 
 moving off into a still more brilliant establish- 
 ment of her own. 
 
 The five honourable gentlemen mentioned 
 by the military cousin were always in her 
 train ; for that sort of people seem to scent an 
 heiress with all the hungry keenness of a jackall; 
 — and she might have reasonably flattered her- 
 self that they would any one of them have 
 offered to her at a moment's notice. But with 
 one exception, they met with little encourage- 
 ment to be so bold. 
 
 Mr. Taylor was a noisy, hearty, jocose man, 
 whom she especially abhorred ; — the Count De 
 Merville she had known before, and after a 
 very close siege to his heart, had confessed to 
 herself that his only object was her fortune. 
 Mr. Roxby was a keen sportsman, who could
 
 THE MEDICAL PRACTITIONER. 109 
 
 hardly feign an interest in any living creature 
 except his horse — and Captain Le Grange was 
 a pale haggafd-looking gamester, who scarcely 
 made it a secret that he lived by his wits. But 
 Captain O'Neill, with the gallantry of manner 
 common to the Irish, aided by a fine person, 
 and that unmeaning arrogance of deportment 
 often seen in his profession, contrived to im- 
 press Florence more favourably than his accom- 
 plices. And he possessed this great advantage 
 over the other suitors, that he was, from the 
 first moment of seeing Florence, thoroughly in 
 earnest. For her grace and beauty and the 
 soft fascination of her manner, had converted, 
 what was begun as a capital speculation, into a 
 sudden and passionate attachment. And fate 
 could prepare no fitter retribution for this un- 
 principled knave than to throw in his way such 
 a woman as Miss Reynolds, who inspired him 
 with his first respectable attachment, at the same 
 time that her splendid expectations held out to 
 him the soothing prospect of relief from the
 
 110 MR. WARRENNE, 
 
 dishonest embarrassment of his numerous 
 debts. 
 
 Florence was extremely vain of this triumph 
 — for he was a man of the world, and a bad 
 subject, and therefore the last person likely to 
 be thoroughly enslaved. 
 
 But much as Florence enjoyed her absence 
 from the sober village of Erlesmede, perhaps 
 Maud Warrenne enjoyed it still more. Her 
 intercourse with Mrs. Creswick was now per- 
 fectly unrestrained — she could go to the house 
 without the chance of encountering Miss Rey- 
 nolds, and being chilled by her cold enquiries. 
 Mrs. Creswick was one of those very rare cha- 
 racters who at once divest every one of all 
 external circumstances, and judge them simply 
 by the qualities they may chance to possess. 
 Civil to all her acquaintance, she never gave 
 her confidence or her affection to any one 
 whom she had not reason to believe actuated 
 by strong principle and kind feeling. Careless 
 even of high birth where it was not accompa-
 
 THE MEDICAL PRACTITIONER. Ill 
 
 nied by noble qualities, she was still more inex- 
 orable to the accident of wealth. She never 
 could be made to comprehend why persons who 
 had grown rich by the humblest pursuits, 
 should be welcomed into society, unless they 
 were distinguished by their talents or their 
 benevolence. The little Colonel, who was 
 quite beside himself at the sight of a lord, and 
 who doted on every body who kept a large 
 establishment, although he never dared to op- 
 pose " Dearest Madam" directly in any of her 
 views, yet he contrived to have a much more 
 extended and motley visiting list at the Ferns, 
 than if its direction had been left solely in her 
 hands. 
 
 The unremitting attention of Maud to her 
 sister Alice, first attracted Mrs. Creswick to 
 her character. She knew that it must be at 
 the expense of some effort, and some self- 
 denial, that she regularly and patiently, day 
 by day, instructed Alice in languages, in his- 
 tory and the more simple and useful branches
 
 112 MR. WARRENNE, 
 
 of female education ; so that Alice, though 
 blind, knew more history than most girls; 
 could speak French and German, and under- 
 stand them when read, and was a very fair 
 arithmetician. For Music, in which she 
 excelled remarkably, Mr. Warrenne had afford- 
 ed her the instruction of a master from a 
 cathedral town not far off. Unfortunately, 
 Mrs. Creswick, so sensitive to the performance 
 of any duty, had frequently pointed out to 
 Florence the conduct of Maud Warrenne, as 
 worthy of imitation, and laboured, but in vain, 
 to impress upon her the deep responsibility of 
 every human life. 
 
 Florence merely replied, in her sweetest 
 tone, that as she had not a pretty little blind 
 sister to patronize, she hardly saw how she 
 could walk exactly in the footsteps of Miss 
 Warrenne ; and that she trusted her dear aunt 
 did not desire the imitation to extend to minor 
 affairs, as she had always rather preferred
 
 THE MEDICAL PRACTITIONER. 113 
 
 her own style of dress, to that of the young 
 lady in question. 
 
 Mrs. Creswick happened to join to great 
 enthusiasm of feeling, a remarkable quantity 
 of plain sense in acting ; a union so rare as to 
 be hardly ever found, and so fortunate, as to 
 command success in most instances. She saw 
 immediately that she had made a mistake in 
 praising Maud ; and another mistake in sup- 
 posing her neice at the present time capable 
 of improvement. She knew that sometimes 
 it is good to wait; and so, however fit the 
 occasion, however urgent the need seemed, she 
 resolutely abstained from saying a word more 
 to Florence. 
 
 It was drawing near to the first of Septem- 
 ber. Colonel Creswick always filled his house 
 for that important day ; and Florence's unwil- 
 ling return was in some measure soothed by 
 the knowledge that Captain O'Neill was to 
 accompany his friend, Mr. Courtenay, to the 
 Ferns, on a visit of a week or ten days.
 
 114 MR. WARRENNE, 
 
 The day of their arrival — they were ex- 
 pected to dinner — she made as costly a toilet 
 as if she were going out to a large party. 
 Among her many accomplishments she knew 
 exactly when a man values dress, and in what 
 degree. She knew that Captain O'Neill was 
 guilty of the vulgarism of delighting in fine 
 clothes, to a degree seldom seen except among 
 men brought up in a mercer's shop ; and as 
 he was her present object, she sacrificed her 
 own knowledge on the matter, to his taste. 
 
 Mrs. Creswick felt rather astonished when 
 her niece swam into the room, wearing a 
 costly black lace tunic, over a pink satin dress 
 — a splended Indian fan hanging from her 
 arm, a gold pomander-box swinging at her 
 side, and jewellery in great abundance wher- 
 ever it could be worn. She made no observa- 
 tion, however, being aware, from frequent 
 experience, that it would have no effect ; but 
 turned her silent, searching eyes upon her 
 gaudy decorations. Florence, however, was
 
 THE MEDICAL PRACTITIONER. 115 
 
 secure in such a dazzling purity of complexion, 
 that no possible mixture of colour could dis- 
 turb its exquisite tints. Her beauty was less 
 faultless, but more theatrical, only in its effect, 
 than if she had been dressed with more taste 
 and simplicity. 
 
 Colonel Creswick, advancing sideways 
 towards her, said that he saw his fair niece was 
 armed for conquest that evening, and she would 
 be, as usual, irresistible. Florence, looking up 
 from her low seat, was in the act of making 
 some pleased rejoinder, when the guests 
 entered. 
 
 Captain O'Neill was at her side directly, 
 whispering compliments and protestations, and 
 other fragments, in the most impassioned man- 
 ner. It is surprising how eloquent love makes 
 a man ; and when he is deeply in debt into the 
 bargain he is never at a loss for something to 
 say to an heiress. 
 
 " You have not been introduced to my niece, 
 Mr. Courtenay, I think," said Mrs. Creswick.
 
 116 MR. WARRENNE, 
 
 " No ; I believe I have not been named to 
 her;" said Mr. Courtenay carelessly. " I had 
 the pleasure of meeting her once at Mrs. 
 Thomason's." 
 
 " Let me present you/' said Mrs. Creswick ; 
 and the ceremony was performed — Florence 
 bowing slightly, without interrupting her con- 
 versation with Captain O'Neill. Mr. Courte- 
 nay turned away without again regarding her, 
 and began to talk to the Colonel about shoot- 
 ing. Florence lent a still more attentive ear 
 to the platitudes of her companion; but the 
 indifference of Mr. Courtenay occupied all her 
 thoughts. Not even to look at her — to stand 
 absorbed by the Colonel's history of his won- 
 derful pointer, Diana, and then to fall into con- 
 versation with her aunt, drawing the corner of 
 his chair forward so that he almost turned his 
 back upon Florence. She was not used to it ! 
 Captain O'Neill's London anecdotes, and his 
 fine protestations could not make amends for 
 this. Her finery seemed to her suddenly out of
 
 THE MEDICAL PRACTITIONER. 117 
 
 place, too. There was something in the stem 
 calmness of Mr. Courtenay' s air, that looked 
 as if he would so thoroughly despise the glit- 
 tering pretension of her toilette. And though 
 a more practised judge of character might de- 
 tect just a little touch of foppery in the rigid 
 plainness of his own attire, she felt at a glance 
 how superior was the one extreme to the other. 
 
 "We have not met, Mr. Courtenay, since 
 you first joined your uncle/' said Mrs. Cres- 
 wick, " you remember the time, I dare say." 
 
 " I do — six years ago — it was at the house 
 of Sir George Manning — the father of Sir 
 Frederick. That was an era I shall not easily 
 forget." 
 
 " I dare say not. Are you at all interested 
 in your employment ? " 
 
 " Why, I had rather be following the hounds, 
 as far as my taste goes ; but that would not 
 exactly answer my purpose." 
 
 " You would not be a mere sportsman, Mr. 
 Courtenay ? "
 
 118 MR. WARREN NE, 
 
 " Why, no. A man with a single idea must 
 always be a distressing spectacle ; a mere law- 
 yer, or a mere philosopher, are quite as great a 
 bore to their friends as a mere sportsman, 
 Mrs. Creswick." 
 
 " You are not changed, I find," said Mrs. 
 Creswick, smiling. 
 
 " No ; do people change ? That is a phe- 
 nomenon I have never yet witnessed ; but then 
 I have never yet happened to take any man for 
 more than he was worth." 
 
 "Have you been equally successful with 
 horses ? " asked Colonel Creswick, as dinner 
 was announced. 
 
 "Not invariably," said Mr. Courtenay, 
 laughing, and giving Mrs. Creswick his arm; 
 " tradition does say that I was once grievously 
 taken in." 
 
 " You must tell me something about Ada 
 Thomason," said Mrs. Creswick as they took 
 their places at table ; " she was such a pretty 
 child."
 
 THE MEDICAL PRACTITIONER. 119 
 
 " Was she ? when I first knew her she was 
 cutting her teeth wrong, and looked very 
 shabby ; but she has grown up better than I 
 expected; in fact she is rather handsome 
 now." 
 
 " Who is handsome ? " asked Captain 
 O'Neill, rousing himself at the word. 
 
 " Can't you mind your own business/' said 
 Mr. Courtenay ; " I was speaking of Ada 
 Thomason." 
 
 " Oh ! very handsome — in a certain style, 
 that is to say," said Captain O'Neill turning to 
 Florence. 
 
 " Handsome and rich — two great trials," 
 remarked Mrs. Creswick. 
 
 "And very well she bears them," said 
 Courtenay ; u except that they make her very 
 indolent, I don't know that they do her any 
 harm." 
 
 " She is a favourite of yours, Mr. Courte- 
 nay." 
 
 " Reasonably — we are sworn friends. You
 
 120 MR. WARRENNE, 
 
 need not look me through, as if I had a wed- 
 ding-ring in my waistcoat pocket." 
 
 " How very like," said Mrs. Creswick, 
 musing. 
 
 " Like myself, I hope ; pray allow me to be 
 incomparable — it is the only simile that I 
 covet." 
 
 " Yes, I was going to say, like what you 
 were. Thank you, I shall gladly resign the 
 chickens into your hands." 
 
 While Mr. Courtenay was carving, Florence 
 tried to attract his attention by making some 
 whimsical demands upon his services for her 
 poodle. He sent her what she wanted, scarcely 
 replied to her smiling apologies, and then re- 
 newed his conversation with Mrs. Creswick. 
 The dinner passed. Captain O'Neill devoted 
 to Florence — Mr. Courtenay, as before, calm, 
 indifferent, amusing; seeming, as much as it 
 was .possible for a man at all used to good 
 breeding, to forget the very presence of Miss 
 Reynolds.
 
 THE MEDICAL PRACTITIONER. 121 
 
 She rose from the table thoroughly vexed. 
 It was very well to have Captain O'Neill at her 
 feet, but that was no reason why she should 
 not make Mr. Courtenay miserable. Besides, 
 the delight of having two men in the house 
 furiously jealous of each other ; which pleasure 
 she must forego if he went on in that negligent 
 manner. 
 
 His cool way of asking her, at dessert, if 
 she liked candied apricots, was too much ; and 
 then turning to Mrs. Creswick, almost before 
 he had heard her reply, to remark that he 
 feared Madame Laffarge would send preserved 
 apricots out of fashion. And then her aunt, 
 taking up the conversation in her wise way, 
 and lamenting the publicity that is now af- 
 forded to every detail in the life of a great 
 criminal ; so like her ! — so pedantic ! And 
 Florence sank back in an arm chair the mo- 
 ment she reached the drawing-room, too sullen 
 to speak, read, or work. 
 
 The arrival of the gentlemen was a relief 
 
 VOL. I. G
 
 122 MR. WARRENNE, 
 
 both to the aunt and niece — tea and coffee 
 occupied a certain time, and then Captain 
 O'Neill and Florence sat down to a game of 
 chess. 
 
 " I declare Fm half afraid \" said Florence, 
 looking prettily from Captain O'Neill to Mr. 
 Courtenay. " Is he a very good player V 
 
 " A very bold player, Miss Reynolds — so 
 take care of yourself/' replied Mr. Courtenay, 
 drily, as he crossed to Mrs. Creswick. 
 
 tf Does not that fine work try your eyes 
 horribly V* he asked — looking down upon some 
 beautiful bead work on which she was em- 
 ployed. 
 
 u No — I have an excellent sight — for which 
 I am very thankful," replied Mrs. Creswick. 
 " You know, I conclude the contents of your 
 father's letter !" she added. 
 
 " Perfectly. Poor man, since my brother's 
 death, he has been occupied by that one idea — 
 to get me married. You can't think how much
 
 THE MEDICAL PRACTITIONER. 123 
 
 I was obliged to him for sending me here — it 
 was exactly the place I wished to visit." 
 
 " And which of us may appropriate that 
 compliment ?" asked Mrs. Creswick, smiling, 
 
 " Nay," said Mr. Courtenay, dropping the 
 sarcastic tone that was too familiar to him, "you 
 know I am always pleased to find myself in 
 your society — but I will confess to you, that 
 another motive brought me here at this time. 
 You were my mother's friend — be mine ! — I 
 have reason to believe that there is a young 
 lady in this neighbourhood whom I greatly 
 desire to meet." 
 
 " And her name V s said Mrs. Creswick, 
 smiling at the abruptness with which he 
 plunged into his subject. 
 
 " That I do not know," he replied. 
 
 " My dear Mr. Courtenay, I would do the 
 impossible to oblige you, but really — a name- 
 less beauty !" 
 
 " There cannot be the least difficulty in 
 finding her out," said Mr. Courtenay, in his 
 
 g 2
 
 124 MR. WARRENNE, 
 
 quick firm manner, " she has, or had, a blind 
 sister." 
 
 " Maud Warrenne, then, I declare !" ex- 
 claimed Mrs. Creswick, who entered with all 
 the zeal of a young girl into the strange confi- 
 dence Mr. Courtenay was reposing in her. 
 
 " Maud Warrenne ! I like the name very 
 much," said Mr. Courtenay, coolly, — " yes, I'm 
 quite satisfied with her name." 
 
 " And what is your object, Mr. Cour- 
 tenay ?" 
 
 " To marry her, if she has no particular 
 objection." 
 
 u You are then acquainted with her ?" 
 
 a Not in the least !" 
 
 " You have met her somewhere ?" 
 
 " Once — on the King's Highway." 
 
 " Do you know who she is ?" 
 
 " Not at all — but I think I know what 
 she is." 
 
 1 She is the daughter of our medical
 
 THE MEDICAL PRACTITIONER. 125 
 
 " Is she ? That is a matter of perfect in- 
 difference to me." 
 
 " Mr. Courtenay is coming out in a new 
 character," said Mrs. Creswick, smiling, "that 
 of a perfect hero of romance." 
 
 " My dear Mrs. Creswick, don't be deceived 
 by appearances," said Mr. Courtenay, drily, 
 " I leave romance, and its consequences, to my 
 friend O'Neill." 
 
 " Eh ?" said that gentleman, looking round 
 at the mention of his own name. 
 
 " I said you were occasionally in the habit 
 of acting little romances, my dear friend;" 
 said Mr. Courtenay. 
 
 " He means ' proverbs/ " said Captain 
 O'Neill, turning with a puzzled look to Flo- 
 rence ; " but I declare to you, I have not acted 
 in one for a year or more." 
 
 " Oh ! never mind what he said, Captain 
 O'Neill;" returned Florence, shrugging her 
 shoulders, " nothing I am sure, worth inter-
 
 126 MR. WARRENNE, 
 
 rupting our game to listen to — that castle of 
 yours looks so tempting !" 
 
 " She is piqued, and I could have her •" 
 thought Mr. Courtenay, watching the angry 
 gesture of Florence ; u but thank Heaven, I 
 have something a little better than that in 
 prospect \"
 
 THE MEDICAL PRACTITIONER. 127 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 Mich. She is fair and young and wealthy, 
 
 Infinite wealthy — and as gracious too 
 In all her entertainments as men report. 
 
 Beaumont and Fletcher. 
 
 Maud was very busy among her flowers the 
 next morning, with Karl following to pick 
 up litters in his barrow, and Alice seated 
 within talking distance in the arbour, making 
 a net for the fruit trees, while Ondine flew 
 from one to the other, sometimes thrusting her 
 cold nose into Karl's rough hand, and some- 
 times springing perversely upon the very
 
 128 MR. WARRENNE, 
 
 flowers that Maud was tying up, when Mrs. 
 Creswick stepped out of her grounds, and cross- 
 ing over to the green gate at the bottom of the 
 Warrenne's garden, looked over, and called to 
 the girls — 
 
 " Who will be so kind as to let me in V 3 said 
 she. 
 
 Maud flew to the gate. 
 
 Certainly, if at any one time she did look 
 more charming than another, it was when 
 gardening, in her broad-leafed straw hat, with 
 her high pink morning dress, and little white 
 collar. The fresh and intelligent simplicity of 
 her countenance, and the animation of her 
 gestures, seemed so completely in character 
 with her rustic occupation ; and, from living so 
 much alone, neither sister had the manners or 
 phrases current in society, which will be ac- 
 counted shocking or charming, according as 
 people love or hate, admire or despise, what 
 is commonly called The "World. 
 
 " Mrs. Creswick is quite matinale" said
 
 THE MEDICAL PRACTITIONER. 129 
 
 Maud, opening wide the green gate for her 
 friend, with a little mocking courtesy. 
 
 " Because Mrs. Creswick is come on busi- 
 ness," said that lady, stepping cheerfully in. 
 
 "With papa?" 
 
 " No ; with you. I wish you to come and 
 drink tea with me this evening." 
 
 Maud hesitated. " If you were quite alone, 
 my dear Mrs. Creswick ; but I think that now 
 your house is full of company." 
 
 " And do you know, that is the very reason 
 I have asked you?" returned Mrs. Creswick. 
 " You are, I think, my dear Maud, eighteen 
 this very month, and up to this time you have 
 seen actually no society." 
 
 " You know we keep no company," said 
 Maud. 
 
 "Yes, my dear, with that arrangement I 
 have nothing to do ; but I should like to show 
 you a little company notwithstanding; for I 
 have observed that people who live very se- 
 cluded, form altogether a wrong estimate of
 
 130 MR. WARRENNE, 
 
 society. You must see by experience of what 
 very coarse materials the world is made, before 
 you will actually believe it ; and then you will 
 learn to value properly the few exceptions you 
 find, and to treat with proper indifference those 
 slights which sensitive people are apt to magnify ." 
 
 " I am sure I feel your kindness/' said 
 Maud. " I can leave Alice very well for a sin- 
 gle evening." 
 
 " But, remember, if Alice will come, I shall 
 be delighted to see her," said Mrs. Creswick. 
 
 " Oh ! not me please, Mrs. Creswick," said 
 Alice. "I should feel so uncomfortable in a 
 strange room." 
 
 "Well, I shall leave it open," said Mrs. 
 Creswick ; " Alice has plenty of time before 
 her ; but I shall expect you, recollect, at eight 
 o'clock." 
 
 As Alice was quite immoveable on the sub- 
 ject, indeed she almost came to tears when her 
 papa urged her to make the effort, Maud was 
 obliged to go alone to the Ferns.
 
 THE MEDICAL PRACTITIONER. 131 
 
 A sense of shyness made her rather later 
 than the time appointed by Mrs. Creswick, and 
 when she arrived, she found herself turned 
 alone into a room full of ladies and and gen- 
 tlemen. 
 
 Mrs. Creswick was seated at the farther end 
 of the room, listening to Mr. Courtenay, with 
 her usual earnest and breathless expression. It 
 was not very easy to thread her way through 
 •the groups that were scattered between her and 
 the lady of the house ; but Maud's shyness was 
 not of that sort which implies any loss of self- 
 possession. It was rather a reluctance to mix 
 with people who she felt would look down upon 
 her. Her apprehensions would have been 
 much diminished, had she known beforehand 
 that people would have disregarded her as ab- 
 solutely as if she had been invisible. She was 
 not in their set ; they were not supposed to be 
 aware of her presence. It was therefore less 
 easy to get to Mrs. Creswick than if they had
 
 132 MR. WARRENNE, 
 
 known she was in the room, and had made way 
 for her. 
 
 But Mr. Courtenay, after watching her 
 efforts for a few moments, said something to 
 Mrs. Creswick, who rose at once, and came 
 towards her with quick noiseless steps.. 
 
 Miss Reynolds, in a beautiful evening dress 
 of pink crape was seated in a low chair playing 
 with her dog, and talking to Captain O'Neill, 
 who was seated beside her. She found out by 
 this time that Maud was in the room, and 
 having stared at her for a minute, made her a 
 slight bow, and turned to her companion. 
 
 " Do you think her pretty, Captain O'Neill ?" 
 
 " Why, it may be my taste/' said he, with 
 perfect gravity ; ' ( but it occurs to me that she 
 is much too thin." 
 
 " Oh, you are so fastidious \" returned 
 Florence, looking up to him with a laugh; 
 " but I assure you I have heard her called 
 pretty by several people in the neighbourhood."
 
 THE MEDICAL PRACTITIONER, 133 
 
 " Indeed ! that must have been by those 
 who had never seen you" he said. 
 
 " Oh, fie !" returned Florence. 
 
 " You will sing now, won't you V } he 
 asked. 
 
 " Oh ! if you wish it ; but my singing is not 
 worth hearing," she replied with much diffi- 
 dence of manner. 
 
 Captain O'Neill replied by a glance of in- 
 tense admiration. He was very skilful in 
 looks, and they were altogether a safer medium 
 for him than words, as he had not yet acquired 
 an accurate knowledge of the English lan- 
 guage, which he managed to eke out with 
 sundry scraps of French, picked up while 
 hanging about Paris for a few weeks at a time. 
 
 Maud, who had been edified by their 
 remarks on her person, for they had not found 
 it necessary to control their voices in speaking 
 of her, now addressed a sentence apiece to the 
 two young ladies nearest to her, which was 
 returned by a brief and chilling monosyllable.
 
 134 MR. WARRENNE, 
 
 Mrs. Creswick was obliged to attend to her 
 other guests, and after having named Maud 
 to the two young ladies before-mentioned, she 
 imagined that they would afford her a share 
 of their conversation, instead of which they 
 huddled together, laughing and whispering, 
 occasionally favouring Maud with a broad stare. 
 Those people who think this could not occur in 
 society, have never happened to be thrown 
 into company with young women who consider 
 some other young women decidedly their 
 inferior. Meantime, Florence allowed Captain 
 O'Neill to lead her to the piano, and entrusted 
 to him her bouquet and embroidered handker- 
 chief, while she scrambled over the keys. She 
 had a sweet voice, but so imperfect an ear, 
 that she could not sing anything in tune — 
 and any one less conceited than herself, would 
 never have ventured to perform in company. 
 Maud noticed with some amusement that she 
 seemed by no means contented with the 
 assiduous homage of Captain O'Neill, but
 
 THE MEDICAL PRACTITIONER. 135 
 
 suffered her eyes to wander with a restless 
 expression towards Mr. Courtenay, who stood 
 leaning on the corner of the chimney-piece, 
 surveying the company with a calm and iron- 
 ical glance. Maud perceived a slight smile 
 pass over his face as Miss Reynolds brought to 
 a conclusion one of her elaborate nourishes — 
 a smile that seemed to be expressive rather of 
 contempt than of gratification for the per- 
 formance. 
 
 " Is your friend musical, Captain O'Neill V* 
 asked Florence, directing her eyes again to 
 Mr. Courtenay as soon as she had finished her 
 song. 
 
 "I hardly know what he is fond of — he 
 cares for nothing I think — I never saw such 
 a fellow \" said Captain O'Neill laughing. 
 
 " How different from you \" said Florence 
 looking up in his face with her winning express- 
 sion. " You are so enthusiastic \" 
 
 This, being as far as possible from the 
 truth, was very gratifying to Captain O'Neill's
 
 136 MR. WARRENNE, 
 
 feelings. He smiled and plumed himself, and 
 allowed that in that respect he was very 
 different from his friend. For any one might 
 see, by his countenance, that he was violent 
 and irrational ; but enthusiasm is kindled out 
 of altogether a finer kind of clay than that in 
 which he was moulded. 
 
 Florence, once at the piano, was not easily 
 dislodged ; after the song she favoured the com- 
 pany with a waltz, and after that divers other 
 dance-music, to all which Captain O'Neill 
 listened with great delight, leaning over her 
 and whispering the greater part of the time. 
 Mr. Courtenay, still leaning on the chimney- 
 piece, continued to survey the company with 
 that keen glance from which their is no escape. 
 
 Mrs. Creswick passed close to him. 
 
 '* I wish you would sit down, Mrs. Cres- 
 wick, you are tired •" he said, " the Colonel is 
 surely civil enough for two. Do rest a little \" 
 
 " You see what I have done in bringing her 
 ere," said Mrs. Creswick,, glancing towards
 
 THE MEDICAL PRACTITIONER. 137 
 
 Maud,, who was looking oyer a book of en* 
 gravings alone. " I cannot alter it. Florence 
 sets the fashion among the young people. If 
 she were more gracious, they would follow her 
 example." 
 
 * A vulgar set, evidently," said the young 
 man, sending round a quiet glance of con- 
 tempt ; " she must find it disagreeable to mix 
 with them, I should think. What would they 
 have, in Heaven's name ? Is not her descent 
 good enough ? One would think in these days 
 people's veins ought to run gold, instead of the 
 blue blood of the old Spaniards. But I am 
 going to make her acquaintance." 
 
 " I have been admiring your forbearance," 
 said Mrs. Creswick ; you have not yet ad- 
 dressed a word to her." 
 
 "I have been watching her instead," re- 
 turned Mr. Courtenay. I never saw anything 
 so elegant ; and I am excessively glad to see 
 by the carriage of her head that she is very 
 proud."
 
 138 MR. WARRENNE, 
 
 " Pray let me hear you retract that opinion 
 before you go/' said Mrs. Creswick. 
 
 " I am quite sorry I cannot oblige you, but 
 it is my pet failing/' he replied, crossing the 
 room as he spoke. 
 
 He drew a chair close to Maud, and said 
 by way of beginning the conversation, in a dry, 
 quiet tone, " You live just over the way, don't 
 you ?" 
 
 "Yes/' said Maud, looking up from her 
 book, rather surprised by this time that any 
 one could address a word to her, except Mrs. 
 Creswick, without feeling degraded by the 
 effort. 
 
 " Will you sing presently V he asked. 
 
 " I never sing/' 
 
 " Is that quite literal?" 
 
 " Quite, as regards society." 
 
 " Come, you sing at home ; that is a con- 
 cession." 
 
 Maud smiled a little, and her eyes sparkled ; 
 she was amused by his manner.
 
 THE MEDICAL PRACTITIONER. 139 
 
 " You think nobody here worth singing to ; 
 that is the fact." 
 
 " Mrs. Creswick is worth singing to," said 
 Maud; but she can hear me when we are 
 alone." 
 
 " Now," said he, clasping his hands slowly- 
 together, and leaning them upon her book of 
 engravings, " do you recollect me ?" 
 
 Maud lifted her long eyelashes, and looked 
 at him for a moment, then she smiled, her 
 colour deepened — she hesitated, and said — 
 
 " I — I remember somebody very like you ; 
 but it was a long time ago." 
 
 " And a restive horse, eh ?" said he, quickly. 
 
 "Yes," returned Maud; "how frightened 
 we were !" 
 
 "You, and your sister; was it not?" he 
 added, rapidly. 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " But you were as bold as a lion you know ; 
 it was your sister who was timid !" 
 
 " Oh ! you don't know how you frightened
 
 140 
 
 us both," said Maud smiling; I have hardly 
 got over it yet." 
 
 " Pray, did you recognise my accomplice on 
 that occasion?" said Courtenay, nodding to- 
 wards Captain O'Neill. 
 
 Maud turned round, and looked indif- 
 ferently at him. " No," she said, " was he of 
 the party ?" 
 
 " To be sure ! Come, I'm glad that you 
 remembered me." 
 
 "Not till you reminded me of it," said 
 Maud. 
 
 " Oh ! by-the-way, just introduce me, Mrs. 
 Creswrck," said he, as that lady passed. 
 
 " Mr. Courtenay — Miss Warrenne." 
 
 Maud closed her beautiful lips with a total 
 change of expression. She saw before her the 
 Courtenay of Leonard's letters. 
 
 But he was not to be deterred in the 
 slightest degree by her coldness — he cared little 
 which way it was — he "never said fail !" 
 
 " Do you admire Miss Reynolds' singing," 

 
 THE MEDICAL PRACTITIONER. 141 
 
 he asked, by way of keeping up the con- 
 versation. 
 
 Not so much, replied Maud, quietly, as 
 many other things that she does." 
 
 " Perhaps you will enlighten me on the 
 subject of her accomplishments ;" he said. " I 
 have been two days in the house, without find- 
 ing them out." 
 
 " She dances beautifully, and paints flowers 
 very well," replied Maud. 
 
 " From nature ?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 ". That is something ; do you also draw from 
 nature ?" 
 
 " Yes ; but landscapes— not flowers." 
 
 " And how is your sister ?" 
 
 " Quite well, thank you," said Maud, with, 
 increasing coldness. 
 
 " She is still blind?" he asked. 
 
 " Still." 
 
 " Dear me ; that is a pity." 
 
 "You think so?"
 
 142 MR. WARRENNE, 
 
 "And do not you?" 
 
 ' ' Perhaps I think it something more than a 
 pity," said Maud. 
 
 " Ah ! I am not in the habit of using strong 
 expressions." 
 
 " I can readily believe it." 
 
 " And why, again ?" 
 
 " Because warm expressions are generally 
 the result of warm feelings." 
 
 Now it ! -' a niiiillliin tiling jrir people to 
 abuse themselves, and then to be very angry " 
 that you take them at their word. 
 
 Courtenay looked piqued, and said with a 
 slight cough, — 
 
 u Ladies seldom give a man credit for feel- 
 ing, unless he can rant like a player !" 
 
 " So that once in a hundred times, ladies 
 commit an injustice," returned Maud. 
 
 " Then you admit that the thing can happen 
 as an exception ?" said Courtenay. 
 
 "Yes, when a man stammers," returned 
 Maud.
 
 THE MEDICAL PRACTITIONER. 143 
 
 He smiled, and regarded her earnestly, but 
 Maud was too proud to feel embarrassed, even 
 at the piercing glance of Mr. Courtenay ; for 
 few things make a person so proud as the feel- 
 ing that society has assigned to them a wrong 
 position. 
 
 Florence was at this moment passing from 
 the piano close to them. Mr. Courtenay turned 
 round and said drily, — 
 
 te Thank you, very much, Miss Reynolds." 
 
 " Oh ! it is no pleasure to play to you," re- 
 turned Florence, " you never praise one \" 
 
 " Perhaps then, you will induce Miss War- 
 renne to take your place — she does not want 
 praise." 
 
 "You are mightily acquainted with Miss 
 Warrenne in this short time," exclaimed Flo- 
 rence ; " perhaps she is equally well acquainted 
 with you, through her brother. I have no 
 doubt he has given you a nice character." 
 
 Maud was silent.
 
 144 MR. WARRENNE, 
 
 " Silence gives consent \" said Florence, 
 triumphantly. 
 
 " Silence does nothing of the kind in my 
 opinion," said Mr. Courtenay ; " silence merely 
 looks very handsome." 
 
 Florence bit her lip, and glanced contempt- 
 uously at Maud, who stood blushing and silent, 
 wondering how Miss Reynolds happened so 
 very nearly to hit upon the truth. 
 
 " But I don't think I have the pleasure of 
 knowing a brother of yours," said Mr. Cour- 
 tenay, looking at Maud. 
 
 "You do not know him, I believe," said 
 Maud, coldly; "he is in Mr. Thomason's 
 employ." 
 
 "But Mr. — is it possible? Mr. Cooke— I 
 mean Mr. Warrenne, is your brother?" said 
 Mr. Courtenay, hastily. 
 
 Maud was silent — she did not care to 
 answer him — all the contempt that he had 
 evinced towards Leonard, was little indeed, 
 compared to that which swelled in her breast at
 
 THE MEDICAL PRACTITIONER. 145 
 
 the recollection of it. She moved away towards 
 Mrs. Creswick, leaving Miss Reynolds to an- 
 swer his questions as she chose. 
 
 (C I thought you were talking to her about 
 her brother all this time/' said Florence. 
 
 u I had not the least idea — not the faint- 
 est," said Courtenay, with energy, " that Mr. 
 Warrenne was her brother." 
 
 " Dear me — and they are something alike — 
 only he was so much better looking — and how 
 well he waltzed too — he was such a favourite 
 with us all !" said Florence. 
 
 She did not seem to like the sudden keen- 
 ness of Courtenay' s glance, for she turned to 
 the table and began to look over a book. 
 
 " How came he in a merchant's office, I 
 wonder ?" said Courtenay. 
 
 " I am sure it is throwing himself away," 
 said Florence, " but I suppose that his father's 
 means were too limited to allow of his enter- 
 ing a profession; — he is very accomplished — 
 you can't think how well he paints." 
 
 VOL. I. H
 
 14G MR. WARRENNE, 
 
 " Paints, does he ? — a sort of Crichton, I 
 suppose ?" 
 
 u Of course you would laugh at accomplish- 
 ment in a man — I expected that," returned 
 Florence ; " you are so English !" 
 
 "English, I hope so; that is just my notion 
 of myself. And this Magnus Apollo, young 
 Warrenne, is then — " 
 
 " English, too," said Florence pettishly ; 
 " but he has been abroad long enough to lose 
 all the odious characteristics of the nation." 
 
 u And what may they be ?" 
 
 " Oh ! they are far too numerous for me to 
 repeat !" 
 
 "And what is the topic?" asked Mrs. 
 Creswick, who was crossing the room arm in 
 arm with Maud. 
 
 " We are making a display of our patriot- 
 ism," said Mr. Courtenay, drily. 
 
 " Is not he detestable?" exclaimed Florence, 
 turning to Captain O'Neill. 
 
 "Because Hove my country," said Courtenay.
 
 THE MEDICAL PRACTITIONER. 147 
 
 " That is always the case with people who 
 love nothing else/' exclaimed Florence. " I 
 have a horror of patriots." 
 
 " What do we say to the example of the 
 Elder Brutus?" asked Mrs. Creswick cheerfully. 
 
 " A worthy soul as ever lived/' returned 
 Courtenay. 
 
 " Oh ! I hate him — a wretch Y 3 exclaimed 
 Florence. 
 
 Captain O'Neill did not know the Elder 
 Brutus. 
 
 " Come, we must have your opinion," said 
 Mrs. Creswick turning with a smile to Maud. 
 
 " I think," said she, " there are some 
 situations so difficult that it is impossible to 
 sustain them becomingly. On those occasions 
 you may be good, but you must give up all 
 idea of being beautiful." 
 
 Captain O'Neill here whispered to Florence 
 that she must, under all circumstance, be 
 beautiful. 
 
 "But do you not recognize something 
 
 h 2
 
 148 MR. WARRENNE, 
 
 beautiful in the fulfilment of a difficult duty ?" 
 said Courtenay; "in the struggle, in the 
 triumph, is there not the high spirit of 
 tragedy V 
 
 Maud raised her eyes, all animation. This 
 was a feeling she understood. Florence look- 
 ing down on her bouquet was languidly pulling 
 about the leaves. 
 
 " But all this while the piano is vacant," 
 said Mrs. Creswick. "Florence my dear." 
 
 " Oh ! I have done," said Florence, half 
 lifting her eyes, and dropping them again; " and 
 Miss Stapylton has a cold, or something — has 
 not she, Captain O'Neill?" 
 
 " Yes ; I think she said so," he replied. 
 "And I hardly think the Mansells play; 
 but you can ask them — if you would, Captain 
 O'Neill?" 
 
 It was very pleasant to be appealed to in 
 this way — Captain O'Neill rose, and went to 
 persuade the Mansells. 
 
 "You can sing some of Mrs. Hemans's
 
 THE MEDICAL PRACTITIONER. 149 
 
 ballads without your notes," said Mrs. Cres- 
 wick; " do give us the Roman Girls Song." 
 
 Maud would gladly have obliged Mrs. 
 Creswick in anything great or small — but she 
 caught a glance of Mr. Courtenay' s which 
 seemed to say — "You will have to sing after all." 
 
 She stopped almost in the act of rising, and 
 said that she never could remember the words 
 of a song ; she had rather not attempt it. 
 
 " I think I have it somewhere. I wish you 
 would look, Captain O'Neill. You know my 
 music pretty well by this time," sail Florence, 
 carelessly. 
 
 Mr. Courtenay smiled again. 
 
 " I cannot sing it, Mrs. Creswick," said 
 Maud, earnestly. " You know I never can sing 
 unless I choose my own time and place." 
 
 " Don't be afraid of me, Miss Warrenne," 
 said Florence, with her usual insolent disregard 
 of her female guests ; " for I never listen while 
 music is going on ; I always talk." 
 
 This was strictly true. Courtenay gave her
 
 150 MR. WARRENNE, 
 
 a searching glance, anything but compl i 
 mentary in its character. Captain O'Neill 
 laughed ; he was not quick enough to feel her 
 ill-breeding. 
 
 At that moment, Miss Warrenne's servant 
 was announced. She rose, and wished Mrs. 
 Creswick good night. 
 
 "You had better let me see you home," 
 said Mr. Courtenay, rising also. 
 
 "Thank you, I have a servant," replied 
 Maud, as she passed him. 
 
 " Good night, then," he said, opening the 
 door for her. 
 
 " Nothing I dislike so much as learned con- 
 versation," said Florence, addressing Captain 
 O'Neill. " My aunt and that young person 
 always get on some wise topic or other; but 
 then, it is very likely that she may be meant 
 for a governess; she is the daughter of our 
 apothecary." 
 
 " Very great kindness to admit her here at 
 all, I think," said Captain O'Neill ; " it occurred
 
 THE MEDICAL PRACTITIONER. 151 
 
 to me that she was rather presuming in her 
 manners." 
 
 " Well, have you escorted Miss Warrenne 
 home?" asked Florence, as Mr. Courtenay re- 
 turned. 
 
 " No ; she declined me. It seemed that 
 she had a servant with her." 
 
 "Not much choice of servants I" said Flo- 
 rence, with a pretty playful laugh. " I believe 
 that poor cripple comprehends their whole 
 establishment. I should not wonder if he were 
 to cook their dinner, as well as groom their 
 single horse ! He must have a good deal of 
 leisure time, don't you think, Captain 
 O'Neill ?" 
 
 This was witty, and Captain O'Neill laughed 
 very much ; for, though he was really poorer 
 than Mr. Warrenne, being overwhelmed with 
 debts, he was not reduced to live in such a 
 miserable way. He kept two or three men 
 servants, and half-a-dozen horses, though how 
 he ever contrived to pay for them, or to keep
 
 152 MR. WARRENNE, 
 
 them without paying, is known only to Irish- 
 men of his speculative turn. 
 
 Now, if Florence had said what she did in 
 an ill-natured tone, she would have disgusted 
 even Captain O'Neill ; but say the most bitter 
 things in a friendly, playful manner, and there 
 are very few men who will not be delighted 
 with you. 
 
 " I never judge a woman by her conduct to 
 men, but by her manners to her own sex," said 
 Courtenay to Mrs. Creswick. " In the one in- 
 stance, she is candid; in the other, rarely so." 
 
 "I -think my young friend is candid in 
 both," said Mrs. Creswick, smiling, as she 
 remembered Maud's coldness to Mr. Cour- 
 tenay. 
 
 " I believe it. Will you contrive that I shall 
 see her to-morrow V 3 
 
 " Really, Mr. Courtenay, considering your 
 father's object in sending you here," said Mrs. 
 Creswick, smiliog, "I shall not advance his 
 views very much by granting your request."
 
 THE MEDICAL PRACTITIONER. 153 
 
 " My dear Mrs. Creswick, it is too absurd 
 (I am sure you agree with me), sending one 
 after a wife in this way ; and, happily, your 
 niece and myself are agreed on the point. She 
 dislikes me cordially ; and, with all her beauty, 
 I doubt if I am likely to commit suicide for her 
 sake. Do indulge me." 
 
 ' ' I will try what I can do to-morrow," said 
 Mrs. Creswick. " I should rather like you to 
 marry Maud Warrenne," she added. 
 
 " I should rather like it myself. You are 
 going ? Good night \" 
 
 " I say, Courtenay," said Captain O'Neill, 
 detaining his friend as he was leaving the room. 
 
 "Eh?" said Mr. Courtenay, looking sharp 
 round. 
 
 "What do you think of her ?" 
 
 Any one seeing Captain O'Neill's face at 
 that moment would have reason to hope from 
 its earnestness that he was putting a question 
 relative to his salvation. 
 
 "Which?" asked Mr. Courtenay, quickly 
 
 h 3
 
 1 54 MR. WARRENNE, 
 
 — "Miss Warrenne, or the other piece of 
 goods ?" 
 
 " Of course, I mean Miss Reynolds ; but 
 really, when you call her f a piece of goods/ it 
 occurs to me" — 
 
 "Exactly/' said Mr. Courtenay, inter- 
 rupting his friend ; " so it does to me. She 
 was very smart to night. You like pink don't 
 you ? I thought so. She is very pretty, and 
 very rich — and I am very tired. Have you 
 done ?" 
 
 " No ; of course, I wanted to consult you. 
 I always take your advice, you know." 
 
 " Naturally. What is it now ? w 
 
 " Will she have all old Reynolds's money V 9 
 
 "Every sous for anything I know to the 
 contrary; but you can't expect her to carry 
 about a sample of rupees, like a corn-dealer 
 with his oats. She is an only child; but don't 
 be sanguine ; believe only in what you see ; in 
 the rose-coloured gown, for instance." 
 
 " Could you not get out of Mrs." Creswick
 
 THE MEDICAL PRACTITIONER. 155 
 
 how she is situated ? Not that I care. I adore 
 her. I think she is the most beautiful creature ; 
 but nobody can live on air." 
 
 " Not without a good deal of training," said 
 Mr. Courtenay, mildly ; " and you would not 
 like the experiment, I dare say." 
 
 "And you have positively no intention," 
 said Captain O'Neill. 
 
 "None at all. You will have half the 
 county for your rivals; but take courage. / 
 am not of the number." 
 
 And with these words Mr. Courtenay took 
 up his candle and walked out of the room.
 
 L56 MR. WARRENNE, 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 E. Hen. — I know no ways to mince it in love, but 
 directly to say — I love you. Then, if you urge me further 
 than to say — Do you in faith ? I wear out my suit. 
 
 King Henry V. 
 
 I cannot look greenly, nor gasp out my eloquence, 
 nor have I no cunning in protestation : only downright 
 oaths, which I never use till urged, nor never break for 
 urging. — Ibid. 
 
 M4UD and Alice were fond of spending the 
 fine summer mornings in the arbour at the 
 bottom of the garden, reading and working 
 and sometimes practising their songs ; for the 
 place was so secluded that they had no fear of 
 attracting passengers by the sound of their 
 voices. This morning, however, they often
 
 THE MEDICAL PRACTITIONER. 157 
 
 interrupted their studies, to talk over the 
 events of the preceding evening. It seemed 
 as if Alice would never come to an end of her 
 questions. She wanted to have everybody 
 described, and all their sayings repeated. 
 
 "And Mr. Courtenay, only think of your 
 meeting the very man of whom Leonard has 
 spoken so often ! " said Alice. 
 
 '.' And that he should be the same person 
 who frightened us in the lane when we were 
 children ! " said Maud. 
 
 " Tell me again all he said to you," said 
 Alice. 
 
 " It was not much — I would n't talk to him 
 — I despise him so ! " exclaimed Maud. 
 
 " But he does not know that Leonard is a 
 gentleman," said Alice. 
 
 "And do you think that if Leonard were 
 rich he would treat the poorest person in the 
 world as Mr. Courtenay treats him ? " said 
 Maud, indignantly. "On the contrary, he 
 would be even more courteous than he is now."
 
 158 MR. WARRENNE, 
 
 " I wish lie was rich ! * said Alice. 
 
 u I wonder what would become of his phi- 
 losophy then ? " said Maud. 
 
 " He would not need it," said Alice, simply. 
 
 " Shall we sing that duet again ? " asked 
 Maud. 
 
 "Do," said Alice, striking her tuning-fork. 
 
 As they had beautiful voices, and as Mr. 
 Warrenne had strained a point to give them 
 the best instruction, it was not wonderful that 
 they sang to admiration. 
 
 Old Karl stopped his barrow under the 
 garden wall, and, in the discordant voice com- 
 mon to deformed persons, murmured an accom- 
 paniment to the simple German air. Karl was 
 privileged — Maud saw and heard him — gave 
 him a nod, and went on with her part. 
 
 All at once Alice stopped, laid her hand on 
 her sister's arm, and listened. 
 
 " Hush ! — footsteps ! " she said. 
 
 " So, this is where you hide yourselves ! " 
 said Mr. Courtenay, making his appearance
 
 THE MEDICAL PRACTITIONER. 159 
 
 from amongst the shrubs. " I was told I should 
 find you in the garden." 
 
 Maud drew up indignantly, bowed, because 
 he took off his hat as he spoke, and looked 
 inquiringly at him, as if to ask what brought 
 him there. 
 
 " I heard all the first verse and part of the 
 second," said Courtenay, coming close to them ; 
 " you sing remarkably well, upon my word." 
 
 ""We ought to be flattered," said Maud. 
 " Do you want papa ? He is out." 
 
 " Thank you, no, I want you. This is your 
 sister ? How do you do, Miss Alice ? " 
 
 Alice looked up with a shrinking expression 
 of dislike on her countenance, bowed, and re- 
 mained silent and listless. 
 
 " She does not like strangers ? " he asked, 
 looking at Maud. 
 
 "Some strangers," said, Maud; "she goes 
 by the voice." 
 
 " Well," he replied, with a smile, " in voices 
 she has a right to be fastidious. But to my
 
 160 MR. WARRENNE, 
 
 business. Mrs. Creswick wishes you to drive 
 out with her to-day ; she will call for you at 
 two o'clock." 
 
 "Oh, Maud ! " said Alice, "it is to sketch 
 the Roman arch; Mrs. Creswick said she 
 would take you soon." 
 
 " I am much obliged to Mrs. Creswick," 
 said Maud, rising as if to dissolve the inter- 
 view ; " I will take care to be ready." 
 
 " Where are you going ? " he asked. 
 
 " To gather some peas," returned Maud ; 
 " you may tell Miss Reynolds so, when you go 
 back — she is greatly interested in my doings." 
 
 " Why don't you make your German gather 
 them ? " 
 
 "Because I like to do it myself," replied 
 Maud. 
 
 " I will help you," said Courtenay. 
 
 "Oh, pray do ! " returned Maud; "it will 
 be something new to you to find yourself 
 gathering peas." 
 
 " And you can tell your brother of me"
 
 THE MEDICAL PRACTITIONER. 161 
 
 said Mr. Courtenay ; " then we shall be 
 even." 
 
 "Now, when Maud acceeded to his proposi- 
 tion, she had not the least idea that he was in 
 earnest. She was surprised and vexed when 
 he coolly took up the basket from the arbour 
 seat, and prepared to set to work. 
 
 " Are these the peas/' said Mr. Courtenay ; 
 " what do you call them ?" 
 
 " I call them Blue Prussians \" said Maud, 
 growing very cross; "you don't hold the bas- 
 ket right — I can't reach it there." 
 
 " Oh ! I beg your pardon ; you must let me 
 come between you and your sister ; then you 
 will both be able to get at it. v 
 
 " And there," cried Maud, " see, you gather 
 all the little pods that are of no use. Leave it 
 alone ! Any one could tell that you were born 
 in London." 
 
 " But I was not born in London ; on the 
 contrary, I was raised in the West of England, 
 quite in the the couutry ; but I never gathered
 
 162 MR. WARRENNE, 
 
 peas before. You ought to teach me, instead 
 of scolding and growing angry." 
 
 " I should be sorry to have to teach you any 
 thing," returned Maud. 
 
 Alice, with one hand on the rim of the 
 basket, gathered fast with the other. She said 
 nothing, but smiled at Maud's vehemence. 
 
 * Look here, I have caught you in the fact," 
 said Courtenay; "it is you who gather the 
 little pods, not me. You cannot deny that you 
 gathered that one." 
 
 "That one I did," said Maud; "but you 
 gathered all the other little ones. When there 
 are no more peas, I shall tell papa who ga- 
 thered them wastefully." 
 
 " Dear me ! Miss Alice, don't you pity me." 
 
 Alice laughed. 
 
 " There, I am sure, Miss Warrenne, you 
 cannot mean to eat more peas than those." 
 
 " As if I eat them all !" cried Maud. " Be- 
 sides, you do not in the least know how many 
 there will be when they are shelled."
 
 THE MEDICAL PRACTITIONER. 163 
 
 "That is true. I am sadly ignorant; but 
 you should not be proud because you know 
 more than I. Do you not play the organ,, 
 Miss Alice ?" 
 
 " Only the seraphine," said Alice ; " I have 
 not an organ." 
 
 " Will you let me hear you play V 9 
 
 Alice looked perplexed, but Maud said 
 firmly, though she coloured as she spoke, 
 " Papa is out, and therefore Alice and I cannot 
 receive any visitors." 
 
 Mr. Courtenay seemed to see the pro- 
 priety of this remark ; for he said immedi- 
 ately, " I would not, on any account, intrude 
 upon you ; but, eh ! no rule without an excep- 
 tion?" 
 
 For at that moment there came up the 
 garden walk, with the air of being completely 
 at home, a gentleman, who, though no longer 
 young, was still handsome. 
 
 " Oh ! it is Mr. Scudamore ! Good morn- 
 ing I" cried Maud, and without farther cere-
 
 164 MR. WARRENNE, 
 
 mony, she and her sister ran forward to meet 
 him. 
 
 Mr. Courtenay staid just long enough to 
 see Mr. Scudamore stoop down and pry into 
 Maud's basket, and then turn to go back to the 
 house, with one of the girls hanging upon each 
 arm, 
 
 " I must ascertain who this Scudamore 
 is/' said he to himself; " a fine looking man, 
 upon my word." 
 
 " I thought you had been an immense time 
 away," said Florence^as Mr. Courtenay entered 
 the dining-room, where they were all at lun- 
 cheon. " I suppose you have been spending 
 the morning to very good purpose with my 
 aunt's pattern, Miss Warrenne ?" 
 
 u Is it so V said Courtenay, turning with a 
 delighted countenance to Mrs. Creswick ; " do 
 you think so highly of her ? And you never 
 told me !" 
 
 " Perhaps I left you the pleasure of finding 
 it out," said Mrs. Creswick.
 
 THE MEDICAL PRACTITIONER. 165 
 
 rf Miss Warrenne will be happy to drive with 
 you at two/' said Courtenay. 
 
 " Then of course, Mr. Courtenay, you don't 
 ride; we must try to do without you/' said 
 Florence, ironically. 
 
 " I ride, Miss Reynolds, but not your way, 
 I am afraid." 
 
 " Some secret/' said Florence, turning 
 scornfully to Captain O'Neill ; " I suppose you 
 know his proceedings pretty well. Perhaps 
 Miss Warrenne is not the only favourite in this 
 neighbourhood." 
 
 " Florence, my dear !" said Mrs. Creswick, 
 in a warning tone. 
 
 Captain O'Neill seemed quite overpowered 
 by this witticism ; he did not appear to know 
 how to leave off laughing. 
 
 " I wonder who is to chaperon her through 
 all the love-making !" exclaimed Florence, who 
 seemed neither inclined to take Mrs. Creswick' s 
 warning hint, nor to let Maud alone. 
 
 " She seems to be one of the few young
 
 166 MR. WARRENNE, 
 
 adies who can do without a chaperon/' said 
 Court enay, coolly. 
 
 " Oh ! we all know her to be perfection/' 
 said Florence ; " and perfect people are to me 
 intolerable." 
 
 " There is another class of intolerable peo- 
 ple, to my mind/' said Courtenay ; " those who 
 never aim at perfection." 
 
 Captain O'Neill did not understand him ; 
 — but Florence did : she coloured with anger 
 and jealousy. 
 
 For though she had not the remotest idea 
 that Mr. Courtenay had any intention of re- 
 commending himself to Maud Warrenne, 
 indeed, she felt far too much contempt for 
 her to believe it possible, yet she could not 
 endure that the smallest particle of praise 
 should be bestowed in her presence upon any 
 other woman. 
 
 u And who is this Mr. Scudamore V asked 
 Courtenay, after a pause. 
 
 " Oh ! the pleasantest man \" cried Flo-
 
 THE MEDICAL PRACTITIONER. 167 
 
 rence ; " he was once in the army — and I d o 
 so like military men." 
 
 u Even when they are English," said Cour- 
 tenay, drily. 
 
 ' ( Yes — that is the only thing which makes 
 them bearable ;" said Florence. 
 
 " Mr. Scudamore is a very worthy neigh- 
 bour of ours/' said Mrs. Creswick ; " an elderly 
 man, and an intimate friend of Mr. War- 
 renne's." 
 
 " Oh ! you need not fear his running away 
 with Maud from you/' said Florence. 
 
 " I am not timid, Miss Reynolds/' returned 
 Courtenay, quietly. 
 
 Florence, finding that she gained nothing 
 by wrangling with him, rose pettishly, and went 
 up stairs to put on her habit. 
 
 Mrs. Creswick called for Maud, and bade 
 her bring her pencils to draw the archway. It 
 was a ruin but little known, in a very unfre- 
 quented part of the country; standing among 
 pasture fields and lanes, rough from disuse,
 
 168 MR. WARRENNE, 
 
 and thickly belted with old hedges. A crooked 
 ash had taken root above the arch and hung 
 fantastically over — while gnarled oaks and 
 sycamores pressed rudely against the crumbling 
 sides of the grey stone-work. They left the 
 carriage and walked a little way down the lane 
 to get a better view of the ruin. Just beneath 
 the arch, with his arm over his horse's neck, 
 stood Mr. Courtenay, waiting their arrival, with 
 as much composure as if he had merely 
 halted to rest his horse in his progress up the 
 steep ascent. 
 
 "Put me in, if you like, Miss War- 
 renne," he said, as soon as they drew near 
 enough to speak. " I charge nothing for 
 sitting." 
 
 Maud did not deign to reply to him, but 
 said pettishly to Mrs. Creswick, — u He blocks 
 up the arch with his horse." 
 
 "Does he?" said Mrs. Creswick, smiling, 
 " suppose then we ask him to move \" 
 
 This, Maud did not condescend to do. She
 
 THE MEDICAL PRACTITIONER. 169 
 
 took one of the camp stools that the servant 
 was placing, and opened her sketch book. 
 
 " I think, Mr. Courtenay, we must have 
 you a little nearer this way !" said Mrs. 
 Creswick. 
 
 " With the greatest pleasure," said he, 
 coming forward. " Here Bob, hold my horse/' 
 
 The man's name was Lewis, but that made 
 no difference to Mr. Courtenay. 
 
 Maud, who remembered how perseveringly 
 he had assigned the sobriquet of Mr. Cooke to 
 Leonard, turned away her head that he might 
 not see her laugh. 
 
 "Now then, have you any pencils to be 
 cut V 3 said Courtenay, throwing himself on the 
 bank by her side. 
 
 " No, thank you." 
 
 " Some colours then to be rubbed." 
 
 "Nothing — I can't bear to be waited on;" 
 said Maud, looking steadily on the arch. 
 
 " How do you mean to shade it V 
 
 " With sepia — when I get home." 
 
 VOL. I. I
 
 170 MR. WARRENNE, 
 
 lC It would look better coloured/' 
 
 " Very likely." 
 
 " You can't do it, I suppose ?" 
 
 " Yes — Maud can draw very well in water 
 colour s," said Mrs. Creswick, finding that no 
 answer came from Maud. 
 
 " Ah ! then it is only idleness/' said Cpur- 
 tenay. 
 
 u Is this your usual method of ingratiating 
 yourself with ladies, Mr. Courtenay?" asked 
 Mrs. Creswick, while Maud had stepped nearer 
 to the arch to examine something a little more 
 minutely. 
 
 " I never ingratiate myself — I never cared 
 for a woman before — I never shall again — it's 
 not my way," said Courtenay, briefly. 
 
 " You cannot hope to succeed without a 
 little more deference — we expect it, Mr. Cour- 
 tenay, before marriage," said Mrs. Creswick, 
 with a smile. 
 
 " Yes— and what do you get after ?" said 
 Courtenay. " If she likes me, I will make her
 
 THE MEDICAL PRACTITIONER. 171 
 
 happy — if she does not, what should I gain by 
 persuading her for a time that she did ? — I 
 could get on well enough with a wife I cared 
 nothing about ; but if I married her and found 
 she had made a mistake, I would blow my 
 brains out I" 
 
 " My dear Mr. Courtenay, do not talk so \" 
 said Mrs. Creswick, quite startled by the cool- 
 ness with which he announced his intention. 
 
 " And what would you have me tell her V 3 
 pursued Mr. Courtenay, " that she is beautiful ? 
 she knows that already. That she is noble ? it 
 runs in her veins. That she is accomplished? 
 she might say I am no judge — no — depend on 
 it, my way is the fairest." 
 
 "Have you got it right?" asked Mrs. 
 Creswick, as Maud came back to her seat. 
 
 " Oh yes ! I thought it was some decora- 
 tion — but it is only decay," returned Mar.d. 
 
 " A very pretty part of the country," said 
 Courtenay to Mrs. Creswick. 
 
 " Yes ; just here you get a little silver strip 
 
 i 2
 
 172 MR. WAIiRENNE, 
 
 of the river and farther on the mullioned 
 windows of Forrel Court, peeping through the 
 elms." 
 
 " You see it through the arch, like a picture 
 set in a frame/' said Courtenay. " Have you 
 got it all in to your distance Miss Warrenne ¥' 
 
 " Of course," returned Maud. 
 
 " I shall like to see the end of this sketch, 
 as I was present at the beginning," said 
 Courtenay. 
 
 No answer from Maud 
 
 "We must try and get a peep of it !" said 
 Mrs. Creswick. 
 
 " You shall, Mrs. Creswick," said Maud. 
 
 Courtenay smiled, and taking up her glove 
 which lay on the ground beside her, amused 
 himself by drawing out the slender fingers. 
 
 "Why, he has got my glove, Mrs. Cres- 
 wick !" exclaimed Maud colouring with anger. 
 
 " Give it her," said Mrs. Creswick, feeling 
 half amused and half unequal to the task of 
 mediating between the two disputants.
 
 THE MEDICAL PRACTITIONER. 173 
 
 Courtenay pressed the glove to his lips, 
 and handed it to Maud. She flung it down, 
 and set her foot upon it — absolutely crushed it 
 into the ground in her anger. 
 
 " My dear, my dear," said Mrs. Creswick. 
 
 " Now I have done, Mrs. Creswick," said 
 Maud shutting her book ; " and I should have 
 done before, if I had not been bored." 
 
 Then crossing before Mr. Courtenay, she 
 got into the carriage, and sat at the farther 
 side, looking over her sketch until they started. 
 
 " A very excellent young man," said Mrs. 
 Creswick after a pause. 
 
 '' That is a good thing," said Maud, f< when 
 people don't know how to be agreeable, it is a 
 comfort to think they are excellent." 
 
 " Here he is, galloping after us," said Mrs. 
 Creswick. 
 
 Maud looked another way. 
 
 " Just in time to hand you out," said 
 Courtenay, coming up, as the carriage stopped 
 to sat down Maud at her garden gate.
 
 174 MR. WARRENNE, 
 
 After this adventure, Maud resolutely 
 declined all Mrs. Creswick's overtures — she 
 would not drive with her — she would not go 
 to drink tea at the Ferns. Courtenay was — 
 not in despair, that was very foreign to his 
 nature — but exceedingly chafed and put out 
 of his way. He confided his annoyance to 
 Mrs. Creswick, who sympathized with him, 
 but declared her inability to do more. All 
 she could promise was that she would get 
 Maud somehow or other to attend the evening 
 party she meant to give next week. 
 
 On Sunday, Mr. Courtenay set out for 
 church before any one else, and loitered about 
 the churchyard until the Warrennes appeared. 
 
 They came on each side of their father, 
 quietly dressed in their plain straw bonnets 
 and white gowns. As Maud passed Mr. 
 Courtenay, who stood hy the porch, she bowed 
 hurriedly in Ms return for his salutation, 
 which she did not see until she had almost- 
 passed him, and then went straight to her
 
 THE MEDICAL PRACTITIONER. 175 
 
 pew. And that slight bow was all he got in 
 return for loitering half an hour about the 
 churchyard, and drawing on himself the 
 sarcastic wonderment of Miss Reynolds for 
 the rest of the day. 
 
 Maud never turned her eyes towards him 
 during the service, and although he was able 
 to contemplate, unobserved, her broad forehead 
 and long downcast eyelashes, jet he would 
 have rather preferred that she should seem just 
 now and then a little conscious of his presence. 
 
 And when church was over he came out 
 too soon, and missed her that way — and while 
 he was handing Mrs. Creswick into her car- 
 riage, he had the satisfaction of seeing her 
 pass him on the arm of Mr. Scudamore, who 
 was addressing to her some jesting speech in 
 which he could only distinctly catch the single 
 word" Dick!"
 
 176 MR. WARRENNE, 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 ■voi sete franco 
 
 E se'l mio errar giammai vi trasse ad ira, 
 Per pietade, e per Dio chieggo perdono, 
 Che sia quel ch'io mi voglia, vostro sono. 
 
 Boiardo. 
 
 Mr. Warrenne could not refuse Mrs. Cres- 
 wick's kind and pressing request that he would 
 bring both his daughters to the Ferns the night 
 of her party. Maud rebelled a little; but, con- 
 trary to her expectation, Alice was easily per- 
 suaded. If her papa would promise to keep 
 beside her all the time, she thought she could 
 encounter it — and she should find some amuse- 
 ment in listening to the music (it was a quad-
 
 THE MEDICAL PRACTITIONER. 177 
 
 rille party), and catching the conversation ot 
 the people around. 
 
 It happened that Mr. Scudamore was also 
 invited ; and the girls were delighted at an 
 addition to their party which promised to 
 render them still more independent of Miss 
 Reynolds and her associates. 
 
 Mr. Scudamore brought them each a beau- 
 tiful scarf of red cachernire, worked at the 
 ends in large flowers with silver thread. As 
 these scarfs were very narrow, Maud suggested 
 that they should be worn as sashes; she saw- 
 that nothing could be more picturesque than 
 the contrast with their white muslin dresses ; 
 and she did not know that anything not uni- 
 versally worn is sure to draw down the wrath 
 of a certain class of persons. So they went — 
 Alice and her father, Maud and Mr. Scuda- 
 more. Simple as were their dresses, the 
 splendid scarfs round their waists, with the 
 silver fringes nearly reaching their feet, made 
 them appear effective — and they were beyond 
 
 i 3
 
 178 MR. WARRENNE, 
 
 compare the loveliest girls in the room. Maud 
 with her figure tall, slight, and spirited as 
 Diana, and her dark hair banded back and 
 shining like a mirror — Alice, shorter, softer — 
 her face and neck shaded by the wild profusion 
 of her beautiful ringlets. 
 
 The company were assembled in the library 
 in order to hear some professional singers, who 
 were engaged to perform before the dancing 
 commenced. 
 
 Courtenay joined the Warrennes just as 
 the singing was about to commence — was 
 named to Mr. Warrenne by Mrs. Creswick, 
 and stood leaning on the back of Maud's chair. 
 
 a Have you forgiven me yet ? " asked 
 Courtenay. 
 
 " 1 have forgotten all about you," said 
 Maud, turning away impatiently. 
 
 " That's better still — we are good friends 
 then/ 5 he said. 
 
 Maud did not choose to confirm this state- 
 ment.
 
 THE MEDICAL PRACTITIONER. 179 
 
 " You are fond of music, of course ? " said 
 Courtenay. 
 
 " Yes, I like it," said Maud coldly. 
 
 " Here comes the Prima Donna," said 
 Courtenay ; " I don't know what her voice 
 may turn out, but she is a very sensible 
 person." 
 
 She was a German; and most probably, 
 from her appearance, of Jewish extraction. . 
 Short, heavy, and dignified in her aspect, with 
 large, handsome arms, and a brow like a thun- 
 dercloud. She wore a wreath of scarlet flowers 
 round her black hair, walked slowly and indo- 
 lently to the piano, dropped her fan and hand- 
 kerchief into a chair behind her, and sat down 
 to accompany herself, making a slow and 
 sleepy bow to the professional gentleman who 
 had offered her his services. She sang with 
 great power, great ease, and great expression; 
 but with that peculiar German production of 
 tone, which seems to tlia unlearned more to 
 resemble crying than singing.
 
 180 MR. WARRENNE, 
 
 As soon as she rose from the piano, Mrs. 
 Creswick came up and begged Maud and Alice 
 to sing a duet — asked it so earnestly, as a 
 favour to herself, that it was not easy to 
 refuse. 
 
 Maud led Alice to the piano, and she struck 
 off a prelude with the hand of a master. 
 
 Courtenay said something in a low tone to 
 the German singer, and she lifted up her dark 
 Jewish eyes with an expression of interest and 
 surprise. He had told her that Alice was 
 blind. 
 
 The sisters sang beautifully. Alice was not 
 timid, because she could not see the people, 
 and Maud felt brave because she sang with 
 Alice. And not attempting anything beyond 
 the reach of amateurs to execute, and gifted 
 with voices of that pure and vibrating sweet- 
 ness which may so often be found among the 
 English, it might have been supposed that 
 their singing would have been generally liked. 
 But not at all — the guests were horribly bored,
 
 THE MEDICAL PRACTITIONER. 181 
 
 and heartily glad when the duet, which was a 
 very short one, was over. 
 
 The professional people, however, gathered 
 near to listen, and nearer to praise ; for it is 
 very odd that musical people are more generous 
 than others in bestowing commendation on 
 those who excel. 
 
 " It is a talent that God so often gives to 
 the blind," said the German singer with much 
 feeling, as Alice returned to her seat, "you are 
 very fortunate to possess it ;— rich, it gives you 
 pleasure — poor, it would have given you 
 bread." 
 
 Alice stretched out her hand to the singer. 
 " I am so glad to have pleased you ;" she 
 said. 
 
 " Mdlle Moor would prefer speaking Ger- 
 man," said Courtenay; for the few last sen- 
 tences had passed in French. 
 
 " It is the same to me," said Alice. 
 
 " You would have been nattered, if you 
 could have seen Mdlle. Moor during your
 
 182 MR. WARRENNE, 
 
 song," said Courtenay to Alice, " I assure ypu 
 she had tears in her eyes." 
 
 " And Mdlle. ' tears in her voice/ " said the 
 German ; " but you," she added, looking up to 
 Mr. Courtenay, " were equally pleased." 
 
 " Quite enchanted ;" returned Courtenay, 
 drily. 
 
 Mdlle. Moor thought he spoke ironically — 
 she looked puzzled. " Yet I thought you loved 
 music," she said. 
 
 " Very much attached to it. I have a stall 
 always at the Opera, and I listen to the 
 ballet." 
 
 " How flattering to us !" said the singer, 
 with a smile. 
 
 " After that, I cannot hope to induce you 
 to give us another scena," said Courtenay. 
 
 "The dancing is going to begin/' replied 
 the German, "you who listen to the ballet, 
 should now be thinking of finding a partner." 
 
 " Presently," said Courtenay. " I shall like
 
 THE MEDICAL PRACTITIONER. 183 
 
 to hear your opinion of the lady who is about 
 to favour the company." 
 
 Captain O'Neill was now seen ostentati- 
 ously leading forward Miss Reynolds in a 
 white lace dress, with a beautiful garniture of 
 China roses. She looked very lovely and diffi- 
 dent — turned round with a movement full of 
 grace to Captain O'Neill as she took her seat, 
 and gave him her large bouquet to hold with 
 an air of sweet resignation that might have 
 become Lady Jane Grey when she offered her 
 prayerbook to the Lieutenant of the Tower, 
 But her singing was not quite so good as that 
 which preceded it. She got hold of a very fine 
 air by Niedermeyer, with a great many flats 
 and sharps, and she had an unlucky propen- 
 sity to confuse those useful little steps in the 
 musical ladder. Everybody was glad when she 
 had finished. Captain O'Neill, because he 
 could not flirt so well while she was singing — 
 Courtenay because it bored him — Alice, because 
 it gave her absolute pain — the German, because
 
 1S4 MR. WARRENNE, 
 
 under her solemn aspect she was shaking with 
 suppressed laughter — and the rest of the peo- 
 ple, because they wanted to begin dancing. 
 
 But all round the room there ran a murmur 
 of " Beautiful ! Exquisite ! This is singing ! 
 We have not had such a treat all the 
 evening !" 
 
 And one worthy lady turned to Maud, and 
 congratulated her on the great advantage she 
 might derive from listening to such a delightful 
 performance. 
 
 Maud replied politely — and Courtenay after 
 translating the lady's remark into German for 
 the benefit of Mdlle. Moor, who burst into an 
 indignant laugh, said to Maud, — 
 
 " You did quite right— I make a point of 
 it myself— there is no possible absurdity in 
 which I do not gladly acquiesce — it is too 
 Quixotic an effort to attempt to explain to 
 people." 
 
 "There was nothing to explain;" said 
 Maud, smiling, " the lady thought Miss Rey-
 
 THE MEDICAL PRACTITIONER. 185 
 
 nolds sang better than I did — I was the last 
 person who should try to convince her that it 
 was not the case." 
 
 " How very well you speak German," said 
 Courtenay. 
 
 " Oh ! when Leonard was with us, we spoke 
 it constantly, he was so fond of it," replied 
 Maud. Then stopping as the name of her 
 brother brought before her all Mr. Courtenay's 
 airs, she turned to Mr. Scudamore on the other 
 side. 
 
 " I wish, Mr. Scudamore, I could give you 
 a little bit of this sofa," said she, "but it is 
 impossible." 
 
 f * Eh ! child — oh ! I don't wish to sit down. 
 Who are you going to dance with ?" 
 
 u I hope with me," said Courtenay, advanc- 
 ing to her. 
 
 "No, thank you," said Maud, quietly; but 
 firmly. 
 
 Courtenay bowed and drew back. 
 
 " Do you know what you have done, child?"
 
 186 MR. WARRENNE, 
 
 said Mr. Scudamore, " do you know that you 
 cannot dance now with anybody else ? — that 
 you must actually sit still all the rest of the 
 evening ?" 
 
 "I shall not sit still, grandfather/' said 
 Maud, " I shall walk about with you, and look 
 at the dancers. I don't choose to dance with 
 that man." 
 
 " Ah ! if Dick were but here/' said Mr. 
 Scud amor e, as he offered Maud his arm. 
 
 The quadrille band now struck up, and the 
 drawing-room was speedily thronged by the 
 dancers and the lookers on. 
 
 Florence swept past Maud, on the arm of 
 Captain O'Neill, with a look that seemed 
 plainly to say, " Poor soul ; nobody will ask 
 you to dance." 
 
 " Could not you have said you were en- 
 gaged, or you would wait a little, or anything 
 that would have left you at liberty," pursued 
 Mr. Scudamore; "people won't believe you 
 had the opportunity."
 
 THE MEDICAL PRACTITIONER. 187 
 
 " It seems to prey upon your mind, grand- 
 father/' said Maud, laughing. " I shall con- 
 sult you next time, and get a fib ready." 
 
 The quadrille being over, people began to 
 form a waltz. 
 
 A very young gentleman, with a pert dark 
 Spanish face, was leading Mdlle. Moor to the 
 dancers. He passed close to Mr. Courtenay, 
 who was leaning against the wall, looking 
 coolly on. 
 
 " I say, Courtenay, it is such a bore \" said 
 the young gentleman. 
 
 " What is a bore ?" 
 
 " Dancing with this woman, who can't un- 
 derstand what I say." 
 
 " My dear friend, depend upon it, she will 
 not be a loser on that account/' said Mr. 
 Courtenay, quietly. 
 
 This kind of speeches was always well re- 
 ceived by Mr. Courtenay' s friends, under the 
 idea that it was " his way /' that he never
 
 188 MR. WARRENNE, 
 
 meant anything, and that those people who 
 thought him satirical were quite mistaken." 
 
 " I say, I wish you would take her off my 
 hands/' pursued the young gentleman. 
 
 " With all my heart." 
 
 And Courtenay, in a few words, explained 
 to Mdlle. Moor, that the young gentleman was 
 reduced to despair at being unable to converse 
 with her, and that he hoped for the honour of 
 dancing with her in his stead. 
 
 " The singer, well pleased, consented to the 
 transfer, and the young gentleman trotted up 
 to Maud. 
 
 " Fm so enraptured, said the youth," who 
 always perverted the letter R, "I thought I 
 should never have got wid of her. Why can't 
 she speak English?" 
 
 "For the same reason that you cannot 
 speak German, perhaps," said Maud, laughing. 
 
 "Will you do me the honour to waltz 
 with me ?" asked the young gentleman.
 
 THE MEDICAL PRACTITIONER. 189 
 
 " No, that I cannot do, unfortunately," re- 
 plied Maud. 
 
 " Cannot you waltz V 
 
 " Not this evening." 
 
 "Pway don't wefuse me, for I've set my 
 heart on dancing with you," said the young 
 gentlemen. 
 
 " Not to night, indeed ; for I have refused 
 some one else," said Maud. 
 
 " Oh ! if that is all," said the young gentle- 
 man, " I beg that you will begin diwectly, and 
 if the fellow gwumbles, Fll call him out." 
 
 " No, no, young gentleman, that will never 
 do !" said Mr. Scudamore, looking very much 
 amused. 
 
 "Who was it?" asked the youth; "I 
 should not wonder if it was that fellow O'Neill. 
 I should like to pick a quawwel with him, for 
 he is sometimes vewy diswespectful in his man- 
 ners to me." 
 
 "It does not matter who it was," said
 
 190 MR. WARRENNE, 
 
 Maud, smiling ; " it is all over with me for this 
 evening." 
 
 The young gentleman remained shuffling 
 about near Maud for a minute or two, and then 
 exclaimed, as if a thought suddenly struck 
 him, — 
 
 " Stop ! wait a bit ; Fll set it all to wights 
 in a minute." 
 
 Then crossing to Mr. Courtenay, who had 
 led Mdlle. Moor to a seat, and was standing 
 talking to her, the young gentleman suddenly 
 pulled him by the arm. 
 
 " Hollo ! what do you want now ?" ex- 
 claimed Mr. Courtenay. 
 
 " Oh ! I say ; I want to dance with that 
 angel in the wed scawf." 
 
 "Well, dance away then, and don't bore 
 me." 
 
 " But I wish you would attend to me," said 
 the young gentleman, with another pull ; 
 " thewe is a difficulty !"
 
 THE MEDICAL PRACTITIONER. 191 
 
 "A difficulty, is there?" 
 
 " Yes ; she has wefused some fellow, and so 
 she hesitates about accepting me." 
 
 "And you are such a reasonable person, 
 that of course you see the propriety of giving 
 up the matter." 
 
 " Never !" said the young gentleman. " I 
 want you to come and pewsuade her, or else I 
 shall do something despewate !" 
 
 " You look very formidable to night," said 
 Mr. Courtenay, drily. I am quite at your 
 orders." 
 
 " Come, then," said the young gentleman, 
 " I know it is that wetch O'Neill ; and I shall 
 have the twiumph of cawwying her off before his 
 eyes !" 
 
 It was so customary for Mr. Courtenay to 
 be applied to by all his friends in their dif- 
 ficulties, and to bring them through by some 
 means or other, that the young gentleman 
 made sure of his partner on the spot. 
 
 Mr. Courtenay went up coolly to Maud,
 
 192 
 
 and, turning towards his companion, said : 
 " Allow me to present to you Mr. Osborne — 
 Miss Warrenne." 
 
 Maud bowed, and wondered ; but she was 
 still more surprised when he added — 
 
 " Mr. Osborne is very ambitious of dancing 
 with you, Miss Warrenne. May I hope that 
 he will be more successful in his application 
 than I have been." 
 
 Maud coloured deeply. There was some- 
 thing generous, she thought, in this frankness ; 
 and she was keenly sensitive to generosity of 
 character; but then it showed that he was not 
 reduced to despair by her refusal, and that was 
 an unflattering view of the case. 
 
 " I do not wish to dance to-night," she re- 
 plied ; " and I thought I should have been 
 understood when I pleaded a former refusal. , I 
 am quite sorry that Mr. Osborne should have 
 taken the trouble to urge his request." 
 
 Mr. Osborne seemed still very much dis- 
 posed to argue the point; but Mr. Courte-
 
 THE MEDICAL PRACTITIONER. 193 
 
 the vacant seat next to Maud, said to 
 him — 
 
 " I almost think you had better try your 
 fortune in another quarter." 
 
 It seemed as if none of Mr. Courtenay's 
 friends were in the habit of disputing his com- 
 mands ; for Mr. Osborne, after a little shuffling 
 indecision of gesture, went to another part of 
 the room. 
 
 " Now, I wonder," said Mr. Courtenay, 
 looking steadily at Maud, " what was your ob- 
 jection to dancing with me ?" 
 
 Mr. Scudamore had left her to speak to Mr. 
 Warrenne, who was with Alice at the other 
 side of the room. Maud, surrounded by 
 strangers, felt as much alone as if she had been 
 in a desert. She coloured, and made no reply. 
 
 " Because," he continued, " I can't well 
 have offended you during our very short ac- 
 quaintance; unless, indeed, you have not yet 
 forgiven me for meddling with your glove." 
 
 Still Maud remained silent, wishing heartily 
 
 VOL. I. K
 
 194 MR. WARRENNE, 
 
 that she was out of reach of his searching 
 eyes. 
 
 " But if I have, from any inadventure dis- 
 pleased you, he pursued, I beg you sincerely to 
 forget it. I could imagine nothing that I would 
 more earnestly avoid than giving you offence." 
 
 " You have not given me any," replied 
 Maud, in a constrained voice. 
 
 " Here is Miss Warrenne determined against 
 dancing," said Mr. Courtenay, as Mrs. Cresvvick 
 came up to them. 
 
 "What! Maud sitting still!" said Mrs. 
 Creswick. " Whose fault is that, my dear ?" 
 
 "My own fault, Mrs. Creswick; I prefer 
 looking on," said Maud. 
 
 "Do ladies ever tell the truth on these 
 occasions ?" asked Mr. Courtenay. 
 
 Mr. Scudamore joined them at this moment, 
 to the great relief of Maud. 
 
 " My dear," he said, " your papa and Alice 
 are going; they are both tired. If you like to 
 stay, I will take care of you."
 
 THE MEDICAL PRACTITIONER. 195 
 
 " You don't know what a charge you un- 
 dertake, Mr. Scudamore," said Maud. a I will 
 go at once, for fear of getting you into a 
 scrape." 
 
 "Will you, really," said Mrs. Creswick. 
 
 " If you please, my dear Mrs. Creswick," 
 returned Maud, " I am growing sleepy." 
 
 " That is because you won't dance," said 
 Courtenay, following her into the hall. 
 
 Mr. Scudamore put on her shawl, and 
 handed her down the steps. 
 
 " Oh, I am so glad it is over ! " said Maud, 
 as they stepped out into the moonlight and the 
 fresh, dewy air ; and the sounds of the waltz 
 beat fainter and fainter as they left the house 
 behind them. " The best part of a party must 
 always be the walk home V 
 
 k 2
 
 196 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 Neither by my consent shalt thou train him np 
 in wars — for he that sets np his rest to live by that pro- 
 fession, can hardly be an honest man or a good Christian. 
 Besides, it is a science no longer in request than nse ; — for 
 soldiers in peace, are like chimneys in summer. 
 
 Lord Burleigh. 
 
 Be wise Sir, she's a woman, and a trouble, and has 
 her many faults, the least of which is she cannot love 
 you. 
 
 The Scornful Lady. 
 
 The attentions of Captain O'Neill to Miss 
 Reynolds at this party were so marked, that 
 the guests all went home impressed with the 
 belief that he was her accepted suitor. He 
 had danced with her whenever he found her 
 disengaged ; the rest of the time he spent in
 
 THE MEDICAL PRACTITIONER. 197 
 
 wandering about the room, or taking up the 
 seats which ought to have been reserved for 
 the ladies ; for he was one of those men who 
 cannot pay attention to one woman without 
 rudely neglecting all the others who are pre- 
 sent. Mrs. Creswick watched their growing 
 intimacy with much inquietude ; and on the 
 morning after the dance, she thought that it 
 was proper to come to an explanation with her 
 niece on the subject. 
 
 Florence received her Aunt's summons with 
 much dissatisfaction, lingered over her toilet 
 to the last possible moment, and then made 
 her appearance, with an encouraging air of 
 weariness and indifference ; sank down into an 
 easy chair opposite to her Aunt, and prepared 
 herself to listen. 
 
 Mrs. Creswick, seated perfectly upright, 
 turned over the book before her, for some 
 moments in silence, and then fixing her 
 breathless looks upon her niece, she said, — 
 
 " Now, my dear, will you tell me exactly
 
 198 MR. WARRENNE, 
 
 how you are situated with regard to Captain 
 O'Neill ?" 
 
 "Do you know, my dear Aunt, that you 
 have chosen a very difficult question to put 
 to me ?" said Florence languidly smiling. 
 
 " Take plenty of time my dear," said Mrs. 
 Creswick; "all I ask, is a very clear and 
 accurate reply." 
 
 (< How I wish that I had Miss Warrenne to 
 assist me I" exclaimed Florence ; " she could 
 define, I dare say, every shade of a gen- 
 tleman's attentions; but for me my dear 
 Aunt, I am afraid I must reply — I don't 
 know." 
 
 "You can tell me perhaps, whether you 
 have yet received a proposal from Captain 
 O'Neill ?" said Mrs. Creswick, steadily. 
 
 " Even that, my dear aunt, is sometimes no 
 easy question, there are so many ways of in- 
 sinuating a proposal ; as Maud Warrenne will 
 tell you." 
 
 * Suppose we leave Maud Warrenne quite
 
 THE MEDICAL PRACTITIONER. 199 
 
 alone for the present, and come back to the 
 point," said Mrs. Creswick, calmly. 
 
 At this crisis, Florence was seized with a fit 
 of laughter that she seemed unable to control. 
 "You must excuse me, my dear aunt," she 
 cried; "but those scarfs! Did you ever see 
 anything so preposterous as the figures those 
 poor girls had made of themselves V* 
 
 "Now, my dear," said Mrs. Creswick, 
 patiently, "as soon as we can get rid of the 
 scarfs, we will go back to the old story. 
 Has Captain O'Neill yet made you an 
 offer?" 
 
 " Why — no — not "exactly ;" said Florence, 
 hesitating. 
 
 " Then I am thankful to think that it is not 
 yet too late for you to retire with credit from 
 this affair," said Mrs. Creswick, " for you must 
 be aware that he is a person whom your father 
 would highly disapprove." 
 
 Florence coloured high with anger, and said 
 with a disdainful smile — " Is it a fair question
 
 200 MR. WARRENNE, 
 
 to ask, in what manner Captain O'Neill has 
 had the misfortune to displease you V y 
 
 " I have reason to believe/' said Mrs. Cres- 
 wick, " that he is a man totally devoid of reli- 
 gious, and even of moral principle- — that he has 
 always led a very irregular life — and that he is 
 so deficient in education and intelligence, that 
 there is but slight ground to hope for his refor- 
 mation ; — for Dr. Arnold, (and he is a very high 
 authority), tells us that f if you take away a 
 man's knowledge, you do not bring him to the 
 state of an infant, but to that of a brute — and 
 of one of the most mischievous and malignant 
 
 of the brute creation He then who is 
 
 a fool as far as regards earthly things, is much 
 more a fool with regard to heavenly things. He 
 who cannot raise himself even to the lower 
 height, how can he attain to the higher V " 
 
 Mrs. Creswick having read the above sen- 
 tences from the book which lay before her, closed 
 the volume and looked steadily at her niece. 
 
 " I am sure he is a very honourable man \"
 
 THE MEDICAL PRACTITIONER. 201 
 
 exclaimed Florence, indignantly, " he goes every- 
 where — he is in the best society ! I believe he 
 is no worse than other people, only he is no 
 hypocrite V 
 
 "It pains me," said Mrs. Creswick, "to 
 hear you quote the opinion of society in sup- 
 port of any man's character or conduct. How 
 many persons move through society caressed 
 and honoured, who are at enmity with God, 
 and basely negligent of all that elevates and 
 purifies our nature !" 
 
 " I never had the least ambition to marry a 
 methodist, my dear aunt," said Florence, 
 quietly. 
 
 "I think it right," said Mrs. Creswick, 
 after a pause, " to tell you a circumstance that 
 fell under the knowledge of one of my inti- 
 mate friends not very long ago, although I 
 should hope that at your age you are a perfect 
 stranger to the very name of such trans- 
 actions. (Poor Mrs. Creswick ! She had never 
 
 k 3
 
 202 MR. WARRENNE, 
 
 been behind the scenes of a boarding 
 school!;" 
 
 "Not long ago/' she continued, " he per- 
 suaded a married woman, the wife of a trades- 
 man, to quit her husband and children for his 
 protection." 
 
 " Drawn in, I dare say," replied Florence, 
 with perfect indifference, " those women are so 
 designing !" 
 
 " In this instance," said Mrs. Creswick, 
 sternly, "the wretched young woman was 
 much respected until she attracted the notice 
 of Captain O'Neill. He ruined the peace of a 
 family hitherto remarkable for its quiet com- 
 fort, — he deprived three unhappy infants of a 
 mother's care — and he destroyed the life as 
 well as the virtue of his victim, who died two 
 months ago, of grief and shame — of what is 
 usually called a broken heart." 
 
 Mrs. Creswick had spoken with much feel- 
 ing, and she paused — hoping to have aroused
 
 THE MEDICAL PRACTITIONER. 203 
 
 some displeasure, perhaps some sorrow in her 
 niece's mind. But Florence, after arranging 
 her bracelet with much care, looked languidly 
 towards her aunt. 
 
 " Poor man," she said, " what a bore for 
 him — I dare say it is unknown the scenes he 
 had to go through ! He will be wiser next 
 time, and not attempt to undermine such very 
 rigid virtue. It really does not answer on the 
 whole." 
 
 Mrs. Creswick was a little disappointed, for 
 she made it a rule to think the very best she 
 could of people, and she had hoped to find 
 something like womanly feeling still lurking in 
 her niece's heart. A thought just crossed her 
 mind for a moment as to whether a creature so 
 devoid of sensibility, so callous to right and 
 wrong, was worth any farther effort to save; 
 but it was one of her maxims that the fulfil- 
 ment of our duty should be always entirely 
 independant of persons or circumstances,
 
 204 MR. WARRENNE, 
 
 She glanced at her watch, and then turning 
 with a calm face to her niece, she said — 
 
 " I will detain you but a short time, but I 
 must beg your earnest attention to what I am 
 about to say. I had hoped that such a tale as 
 the one I have just touched upon, would have 
 decided you against the most splendid match 
 that the world could offer. But if your taste 
 leads you to prefer what is depraved, you must 
 be saved from your own inclinations. You 
 cannot marry Captain O'Neill; your father 
 would not allow it; and, therefore, it is 
 deeply important that you give him no rea- 
 son to believe that his suit will be suc- 
 cessful." 
 
 "I am too candid, my dear aunt," said 
 Florence, rising gracefully ; " if I like a person, 
 I cannot help shewing it ; and should Captain 
 O'Neill continue to please me, I must try and 
 persuade papa to settle something very hand- 
 some upon us !"
 
 THE MEDICAL PRACTITIONER. 205 
 
 And with these words she glided gently out 
 of the room. 
 
 Mrs. Creswick rose also, took her bonnet 
 from its box, and her mantle from its drawer 
 (she was very fond of waiting on herself), and 
 put them carefully on ; then stepping to the 
 open window before she left the room, she saw 
 Florence crossing the lawn with Captain 
 O'Neil] — he seemed to be begging, and she 
 coquettishly withholding a bit of geranium 
 which she held in her hand. Such was the re- 
 sult of the morning's interview with her niece. 
 
 The sisters in their turn had much to dis- 
 cuss the morning after the ball. 
 
 " I am so sorry you did not dance, Maud," 
 said Alice. " Mr. Scudamore told papa he had 
 never seen you look so handsome. 
 
 a rpi ie grandfather is partial," replied Maud; 
 " but I should like the idea, indeed, of dancing 
 with that horrid man. I can hardly speak 
 civilly to him when I think of Leonard." 
 
 "I think Miss Reynolds ought to marry
 
 206 MR. WARRENNE, 
 
 that scornful Mr. Courtenay," said Alice, 
 smiling. 
 
 "They would be very well matched/' re- 
 turned Maud. 
 
 " Does he waltz well ?" asked Alice. 
 
 " Pretty well; not nearly so well as 
 Leonard." 
 
 " Is he handsome ?" 
 
 " Not at all ! Don't let us talk of him ; 
 it puts me out of patience \" exclaimed Maud. 
 
 " Look out, and tell me what the grand- 
 father is doing with papa/' said Alice. 
 
 " They are walking up and down the front, 
 and the grandfather has a letter in his hand." 
 
 "Anything about Alberic?" exclaimed 
 Alice, turning pale. 
 
 " Grandfather/' cried Maud, leaning from 
 the window, " Alice wishes to know the con- 
 tents of that letter she hears you have in your 
 hand." 
 
 "Maud!" said Alice, trying to draw her 
 sister back.
 
 THE MEDICAL PRACTITIONER. 207 
 
 " Oh \" you are up, are you, after all your 
 fatigues," said Mr. Scudamore, coming to the 
 window, and sitting down on the ledge. " This 
 letter is about Dick, Mistress Maud. He has 
 been wounded at the taking of that Fort they 
 were expecting to be ordered against when he 
 last wrote." 
 
 " Oh, grandfather ! how sorry I am for 
 you," exclaimed Alice. 
 
 " All in the day's work," said Mr. Scuda- 
 more, coolly ; " but he has a mind to try what 
 a sea voyage will do for him. It seems he has 
 been hit in the knee, and the doctors there 
 advise him to lose the limb. He thinks they 
 will manage better for him over here ; and 
 so, Maud, my dear, he is coming home." 
 
 " Oh ! dear, how dreadful !" said Alice 
 shuddering. 
 
 " Oh, I have no doubt the voyage will set 
 him up again — it always does," said Mr. Scu- 
 damore.
 
 208 MR. WARRENNE, 
 
 "But," said Alice, "we have not heard 
 from Alberic ; how is that ?" 
 
 " My letter came by Marseilles," said Mr. 
 Scudamore; "but I can tell you that Alberic 
 is very well, though he was with the lines at 
 this siege, and in a perfect shower of shot 
 and shell; where you know, Queen Maud, he 
 had no business to be \" 
 
 "I know — I am glad of it V* cried Maud, 
 with great animation j " it is what I should 
 like myself. What a beautiful sight a siege 
 must be. And a man is more a man who 
 has once looked death in the face !" 
 
 " Listen to Queen Maud ! " said Mr. Scud- 
 amore, laughing ; " I hope you will bear that 
 in mind when you see Dick." 
 
 " How needless ! " exclaimed Alice, " how 
 unkind to us, to put himself in such danger— 
 Oh, Maud ! don't praise him for it when you 
 write." 
 
 "What the child says is very true," re-
 
 THE MEDICAL PRACTITIONER. 209 
 
 marked Mr. Scudamore ; " he was out of his 
 place; it is not his metier; if he had been 
 knocked on the head he would have got no 
 thanks ; but you and I, Maud, think it is very 
 natural for all that." 
 
 " Here comes the white horse," said Alice. 
 
 " On my word, I am sometimes tempted to 
 think with Mistress Thorns that the child is 
 not blind," said Mr. Scudamore. 
 
 Mr. Warrenne, at the sight of the white 
 horse, now "folded the letter carefully, and 
 returned it to Mr. Scudamore. 
 
 " I see no reason, my dear friend," he said, 
 " why he should not recover this injury ; but I 
 could not pronounce an opinion with any con- 
 fidence without seeing the patient." 
 
 Then mounting the white horse, he inclined 
 his head to Karl, who held the bridle, with 
 that tranquil courtesy which always distin- 
 guished his manner, and rode slowly through 
 the gate. 
 
 "A good horse and trusty," said Maud,
 
 210 MR. WARRENNE, 
 
 " though not quite an Orelia ; perhaps, grand- 
 father, you did not happen to know that 
 Orelia was the courser of Don Roderick ? " 
 
 " Not 1, 'faith ! » said Mr. Scudamore, " I 
 say, Queen Maud, look here ! n 
 
 As he spoke he placed under her eye a pas- 
 sage in the letter which he had folded back. 
 
 " Mrs. Creswick and Mr. Courtenay," said 
 Dinah, opening the drawing-room door. 
 
 " Ah ! how do you do ? " said Mr. Courte- 
 nay, as he entered, " I am come to see if you 
 have any more peas to be gathered." 
 
 Maud started, and looked up all crimson 
 from the letter — made no reply to Mr. Courte- 
 nay's considerate proposal, but went up 
 straight to Mrs. Creswick. 
 
 " Mr. Scudamore kindly bringing you news 
 from India?" said Mrs. Creswick, seeing the 
 sheet of thin paper in that gentleman's hand. 
 
 " Yes, Madam," said Mr. Scudamore, taking 
 off his hat ; " and now I leave them in such 
 good hands, I will wish you all good morning.
 
 THE MEDICAL PRACTITIONER. 211 
 
 And, Queen Maud/' he added, lowering his 
 voice to a whisper, and tapping the letter 
 which he held, " don't you listen to that fellow 
 yonder. Remember, Dick will be here before 
 Christmas \" 
 
 " Nonsense I" said Maud, turning abruptly 
 from the window. 
 
 " And what made you knock up so soon last 
 night, Miss Alice," asked Courtenay of the 
 younger sister. 
 
 " I was very tired," said Alice ; "lam not 
 used to sit up so late." 
 
 " Late ! It was not one o'clock." 
 
 " That is late for me," said Alice, smiling. 
 
 " And late for papa," said Maud, who has 
 to do his work the next day, whether he sits up 
 or not." 
 
 " Were you singing ?" asked Mrs. Cres- 
 wick, seeing the seraphine open. 
 
 " Yes ;" we were trying a bit from a Mass 
 of Pergolesi," said Alice. " It is such a sweet 
 movement."
 
 212 MR. WARRENNE, 
 
 "Will you let me hear it?" asked Mrs. 
 Creswick. 
 
 It was a duet, and Maud looked cross ; but 
 Alice, who was so familiar with music as not to 
 mind it n&more than netting or plaiting straw 
 before strangers, rose at once, saying — 
 
 "I am sure we shall be happy, if you will 
 excuse a little hoarseness on my part, for when 
 I am tired my voice always goes." 
 
 Courtenay hastened to hand her to the in- 
 strument ; but she smiled gently, and said, " I 
 find my own way best. I am going to look for 
 the book." 
 
 "And of what use is the book to you?" 
 asked Courtenay, as she placed it on the 
 stand. 
 
 " It is for Maud," said Alice ; " she is apt 
 to forget the words." 
 
 "And how do you learn to play a new 
 piece ?" 
 
 " Maud reads it over to me as you would 
 read a page of poetry until you knew it."
 
 THE MEDICAL PRACTITIONER. 213 
 
 " You would not know what to do without 
 your sister !" 
 
 " Without her \" exclaimed Alice, with a 
 gesture of terror. " Oh, no ?* 
 
 " But when she marries V 9 
 
 " Oh ! Maud will never marry," said Alice, 
 seating herself contentedly at the seraphine ; 
 " she is not rich enough." 
 
 " Do you play the piano also ? " asked 
 Courtenay. 
 
 "Yes, I learned on the piano; but the 
 seraphine is so nice for sacred music that 
 papa saved up and bought me one," said Alice 
 with her usual simplicity. 
 
 " And who is this Dick that I hear talked 
 of," asked Courtenay. 
 
 " Dick ? Oh ! only a joke of Mr. Scuda- 
 more's; we have never even seen him," said 
 Alice, beginning to play the symphony. 
 
 Maud came up to her, and they sang the duet. 
 
 " Very sweet, indeed," said Mrs. Creswick ; 
 " but I am going to be very exacting — I am
 
 214 MR. WARRENNE, 
 
 going to ask Maud for the Roman Girl's 
 Song." 
 
 u It does not go well with the seraphine, 
 and the piano is in the dining-room," said 
 Maud ; " and I had rather sing it another 
 day." 
 
 "Will you sing this Agnus Dei?" asked 
 Courtenay, taking up a piece of music from 
 the seraphine. 
 
 " That belongs to Alice, said Maud quietly;" 
 and going to the table she took up her work, 
 and seated herself beside Mrs. Creswick. 
 
 "And I must say good morning," said Mrs. 
 Creswick, rising. 
 
 " Oh, Mrs. Creswick ! " said Alice, " do 
 look at this rare orchis before you go. Mr. 
 Scudamore brought it yesterday for papa." 
 
 Mrs. Creswick stepped to the window-seat 
 and examined the flower. Maud remained by 
 the table working in silence. 
 
 " You sing divinely," said Courtenay com- 
 ing up to her.
 
 THE MEDICAL PRACTITIONER. 215 
 
 " All young ladies do/' returned Maud, 
 coldly. 
 
 " I tell you plainly what I think/ ' said 
 Courtenay, with much earnestness, " I wish to 
 heaven you thought of me in any one respect 
 as I do of you." 
 
 Maud coloured, and bent her head over her 
 work. 
 
 " I see you shun me/' he continued. " Deal 
 frankly with me ! Have I no power to alter 
 your sentiments towards me ? Is it in vain ? " 
 
 His voice faltered — Maud withdrew her 
 hands, which he had taken in the eagerness 
 of his appeal, and hurried out of the room. 
 
 " It won't do/' he said, coming abruptly up 
 to Mrs. Creswick; "I go back to Town to- 
 morrow ! "
 
 216 MR. WARRENNE, 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 Mich. — That he is desperate sick I do believe well, 
 
 And that without a speedy cure it kills him. 
 Ser. — Will't please you draw near ? the weak gentleman 
 
 Grows worse and worse still. 
 P/iy. — He shall do well, my friend. 
 
 Excellent well, I warrant thee. 
 There's no doubt of him ; none at all ; ne'er fear him. 
 
 Monsieur Thomas. 
 
 Leonard had now been six months at the 
 office. His employers spoke well of him ; his 
 fellow clerks respected and liked him. He 
 could not be intimate with them, for he was 
 made altogether of different materials. He 
 never confided to them what he thought or felt, 
 but he was cheerful and frank in his manners ;
 
 THE MEDICAL PRACTITIONER. 217 
 
 jocose with Mr. Mills, who loved to be jested 
 with ; and civil to those with whom he had less 
 to do. 
 
 Whether it had dawned slowly into Mr. 
 Courtenay's head that he was of rather a better 
 grade than the others, or not, he became gra- 
 dually more scrupulous in his behaviour to him. 
 This change first made itself known by his dis- 
 covering that Leonard's name was not Cooke. 
 He was not quite sure that he was the person 
 referred to, when Courtenay first called him 
 Mr. Warrenne. And this was the occasion on 
 which it happened. He was taking a copy of a 
 German letter which Mr. Courtenay had 
 written to a correspondent at Hamburgh, when 
 that gentleman coming down from one of the 
 upstairs rooms, paused and looked to see what 
 he was doing. 
 
 "I have made that feminine/ ' said he, 
 pointing Avith the head of his stick to an ad- 
 jective in his letter ; you may as well make it 
 masculine in the copy, Mr. Warrenne." 
 
 VOL. I L
 
 218 MR. WARRENNE, 
 
 " I have done so/' said Leonard, glancing 
 at Lis copy; for lie was so good a German 
 scholar that he had written the word right by 
 instinct. Then, after a pause, he added, shyly, 
 " Would you like to alter the original ?" 
 
 The term struck Mr. Courtenay, who, 
 among many other peculiarities, was fastidious 
 to excess. He thought a low person would 
 have said correct, instead of alter. " Oh ! no 
 thank you," he replied ; and added, as he was 
 walking away, a you know German better than 
 I do." 
 
 Leonard naturally thought that the sky was 
 likely to fall, after this wonderful concession ; 
 but the next day he heard that Mr. Courtenay 
 was gone into the country for a few weeks, and 
 Maud's letters soon gave him the information 
 that he was staying at the Ferns. She merely 
 mentioned that she had seen him there, but en- 
 tered into no particulars respecting his visit. 
 
 He happened to be alone in the office when 
 Mr. Courtenay did return. It need not be said
 
 THE MEDICAL PRACTITIONER. 219 
 
 that he disliked him pretty cordially, and the 
 more so as Mr. Thomason, the head partner, 
 was particularly courteous, and even friendly, 
 to him in his manners. 
 
 What was his surprise when Mr. Courtenay 
 on walking into the room took off his hat, set it 
 on the table, and then, coming up to Leonard's 
 desk, leaned his back against it, and said, in an 
 easy tone — 
 
 " How do you do, Mr. Warrenne V 9 
 
 Leonard, with a slight bow, returned the 
 salutation, concluded that Mr. Courtenay had 
 taken something stronger than coffee that 
 morning, and then dipped his pen. 
 
 " I had the pleasure of seeing a part of your 
 family at Erlesmede," said Mr. Courtenav. 
 " They were perfectly well, I am glad to tell 
 you." 
 
 Leonard looked up at his companion, who 
 seemed to have settled himself for a gossip — 
 thanked him for his information, and went on 
 writing. 
 
 l 2
 
 220 MR. WARRENNE, 
 
 u Hard at it V said Mr. Courtenay, 
 watching his progress. 
 
 Leonard smiled. 
 
 " Yon know the Creswicks, I beheve V said 
 Courtenay. 
 
 " Yes ; I have known them since my return 
 from abroad," said Leonard. 
 
 "Mrs. Creswick is a very old friend of 
 mine/' said Conrtenay. " I find she has a 
 niece staying with her at present. 
 
 Leonard tried to write very steadily. 
 
 "Miss Reynolds tells me that yon waltz 
 admirably," said Courtenay. 
 
 " Miss Reynolds was making herself merry 
 at my expense," replied Leonard, with com- 
 posure. 
 
 "She spoke with great fervour, I assure 
 you. Are you fond of dancing V 
 
 " It is out of my way now," said Leonard, 
 calmly ; " I liked it very well abroad." 
 
 " But I am interrupting you," said Mr. 
 Courtenay, moving a little way.
 
 THE MEDICAL PRACTITIONER. 221 
 
 <e My time is not my own," said Leonard, 
 courteously, for lie was never abrupt, even to 
 those persons whom he disliked. 
 
 Mr. Courtenay took the hint, and left him ; 
 but whenever he passed through the office, he 
 always asked him how he did, and made some 
 trifling remark; and Leonard puzzled over 
 this singular change of behaviour without 
 coming to any satisfactory conclusion. 
 
 One day it chanced that Leonard, who had 
 caught a bad cold, was coughing repeatedly as 
 he was at his work. Mr. Courtenay, who was 
 standing giving some directions to Mr. Mills, 
 turned round and said — ■ 
 
 " What an infernal cough you have got V s 
 
 Leonard thinking that this was an ebulli- 
 tion of spleen, because the sound of his cough 
 disturbed Mr. Courtenay's conversation, said 
 nothing, but tried to control it. 
 
 Mr. Mills said in a surly tone, "Mr. 
 Warrenne got wet through the other day, 
 Sir."
 
 222 MR. WARRENNE, 
 
 "How did that come about V 9 asked Mr. 
 Courtenay, addressing Leonard. 
 
 " I happened to be caught in the rain/' re- 
 plied Leonard. 
 
 " And you never will carry an umbrella," 
 said Mr. Mills, who had become so fond of 
 Leonard as to take an interest in all his pro- 
 ceedings. 
 
 "But I do not like an umbrella, Mr. 
 Mills," replied Leonard. 
 
 "Young people ought not to go by what 
 they like/' returned Mr. Mills. 
 
 Leonard laughed, and Mr. Courtenay find- 
 ing that Mr. Mills had presumed to mingle in 
 the dialogue, began to sing, and walked away. 
 
 In the course of the afternoon, as Leonard 
 was putting up a packet of papers, Mr. 
 Courtenay came in. The rain was pouring 
 down as it sometimes does pour in No- 
 vember. 
 
 " Where are you going, eh V 3 asked 
 Courtenay.
 
 THE MEDICAL PRACTITIONER. 223 
 
 "To Somerset House, with these letters/' 
 said Leonard. 
 
 " What ! in this rain V 9 asked Courtenay. 
 
 " Certainly/' replied Leonard, with a smile. 
 
 " I will leave them, as I drive past," said 
 Courtenay, quickly. 
 
 Leonard's astonishment was unbounded; 
 but he replied that he was much obliged to 
 Mr. Courtenay, but he could not accept his 
 kindness. 
 
 To this remark Mr. Conrtenay made 
 answer by holding out his hand for the 
 papers. 
 
 " Yon are very good," said Leonard ; 
 <f but this is a part of my business. I am 
 answerable if these letters are mislaid or for- 
 gotten. You will excuse me if I seem 
 ungracious, but I must take them myself/' 
 and reaching his hat, he passed Mr. Cour- 
 tenay with a bow, and went out into the 
 street. 
 
 But a long walk in the rain did not improve
 
 224 MR. WARRENNE, 
 
 his cough. The next day he was almost too ill 
 to go down to the office, and his cough was un- 
 remitting. 
 
 Mr. Mills, on the other side of the green 
 curtain, gave him a good many receipts for 
 bad colds, and lectures on the use of um- 
 brellas. 
 
 " You will have to lay by," said Mr. Mills. 
 " I am sure Mr. Thomason will give you leave. 
 I will ask him if you like ? " 
 
 " Thank you Mr. Mills," said Leonard; 
 " do not let us be in a hurry. I shall be able 
 to go on for some time yet ; for I have an 
 idea that when I do give in, it will be for 
 good." 
 
 Mr. Mills swore violently at this announce 
 ment, for it affected his feelings. 
 
 Leonard coughed and wrote without inter- 
 ruption. 
 
 " I will tell you what," said Mr. Mills ; " if 
 you don't take such a cold as that in time 
 it will end in the churchyard I"
 
 THE MEDICAL PRACTITIONER. 225 
 
 " But it is a very easy death, Mr. Mills/' 
 said Leonard, reaching down a ledger. 
 
 " What is an easy death ?" asked Mr. Mills, 
 gruffly. 
 
 " Consumption," returned Leonard. 
 
 " Do you mean to say that it is in your 
 family ?" 
 
 " I do, indeed ; but your agreeable conver- 
 sation distracts me, and I have a profound 
 calculation to make here." 
 
 Mr. Mills got up and left the office. 
 
 " I hope I have not offended the old fel- 
 low," said Leonard, half aloud, as he continued 
 his writing ; "but it is impossible to work, and 
 talk at the same time." 
 
 " Is that your opinion ?" asked Mr. Courte- 
 nay, who was standing behind him. 
 
 Leonard started a little, and then said, 
 calmly, " I thought I was alone." 
 
 ' ' Why I have been here for the last five 
 minutes •" said Mr. Courtenay. 
 
 Leonard made no answer. 
 
 l 3
 
 226 MR. WARRENNE, 
 
 " I have been admiring your politeness to 
 that curious old monster," said Courtenay. 
 " Why don't you cut him short ?" 
 
 " I am in the same station/' said Leonard, 
 still more coolly, "any rudeness on my part 
 would be worse than wrong — it would be 
 ridiculous." 
 
 Mr. Courtenay remained leaning against 
 the desk, turning about his stick. At last he 
 looked up and said — 
 
 " You had better let me drive you home at 
 once." 
 
 "Thank you," said Leonard, smiling; "if 
 I were to take myself off now, I should stand 
 a good chance of being dismissed in the 
 morning." 
 
 " Ah ! what's the term they have for being 
 dismissed V s said Courtenay, as if thinking. 
 
 " I never heard it," said Leonard, " I know 
 very little of my companions." 
 
 "And yet you talk of being in their 
 station," said Courtenay, " it is too good."
 
 THE MEDICAL PRACTITIONER. 227 
 
 Mr. Mills came back at this moment, look- 
 ing very important, with the news that he had 
 spoken to Mr. Thomason, and that Mr. War- 
 renne was not to return to the office until he 
 was entirely recovered of his cough. 
 
 Leonard looked half vexed and half grati- 
 fied. It was very good-natured of Mr. Mills 
 to take so much interest in his welfare, but 
 there was nothing he hated so much as any fuss 
 made about his ailments. 
 
 " And now perhaps you will let me drive 
 home," said Courtenay, " unless you have a 
 predilection for a natural shower-bath. Not 
 the least trouble. It is all in my way." 
 
 Notwithstanding this consideration on the 
 part of Mr. Courtenay, Leonard's cough was 
 worse the next day. Like all men he was very 
 nervous and impatient of illness, and the soli- 
 tude of his lodging did not improve his spirits 
 — he was in the last stage of depression, when 
 to his unbounded amazement the door of his 
 room opened, and Mr. Courtenay walked in.
 
 223 MR. WARRENNE, 
 
 He had not got over his wonder at that gen- 
 tleman's condescension in driving him homeland 
 what miracle brought him to his lodgings, he 
 was still farther from comprehending. Indeed 
 he was likely to assign any cause but the true 
 one to this singular change ; he little dreamed 
 that Maud had wrought the alteration. 
 
 Mr. Courtenay was the last person to per- 
 severe, or to cherish an attachment that was 
 not returned. He would have made any sacri- 
 fice, any exertion to secure her regard. He had 
 never forgotten his first brief interview with 
 her — for some lurking bit of sentiment is not 
 uncommonly found in those characters which 
 disclaim it altogether ; yet as soon as he felt 
 convinced that he could not succeed in winning 
 her, he dismissed her image from his mind by 
 an effort of which his character, trained and 
 hardened by circumstances, was capable. But 
 towards her brother he shewed the same in- 
 terest that he would have done had his suit to 
 the sister proved successful.
 
 THE MEDICAL PRACTITIONER. 229 
 
 " So, you are worse/' said Courtenay, taking 
 a chair, " what have you done to get better ? 
 Have you sent for a doctor ?" 
 
 " No," replied Leonard, " I shall write to 
 my father if I do not get better soon." 
 
 " You are guite right to put it off as long 
 as you possibly can," said Courtenay, drily, 
 "because then either way, his advice will be 
 perfectly useless." 
 
 Leonard not knowing whether he spoke in 
 jest or earnest, was silent. 
 
 "Well, I have brought you some books," 
 said his visitor, " German ones — I suppose you 
 like German literature. People generally 
 think there is something very grand in their 
 rambling nonsense. Here is a little book called 
 'Moonshine/ it will just suit you." 
 
 Leonard smiled and thanked him 
 
 " Schiller ?" said Courtenay, looking into a 
 volume that lay on the table, " ah ! — when you 
 are older you will read Shakspere. But these 
 second-rate minds are a bad preparation. You
 
 230 MR. WARRENNE, 
 
 would do well to put Schiller into the 
 fire." 
 
 Leonard endeavoured to obtain a milder 
 verdict for the great German. He urged his 
 power and facility in the ballad — the versatile 
 character of his genius — the stately beauty of 
 Wallenstein — the fire and pathos of Don 
 Karlos. 
 
 " All very fine," said Courtenay, " but there 
 are things to be had which are finer. Do you 
 think he ever wrote so grand a ballad as Chevy 
 Chase? Do you call Wallenstein as good a 
 tragedy as Ford's Perkin Warbeck ? And as 
 for Don Karlos, the finest tragedy in the world 
 would be ruined by the admission of such a 
 blunderer as Von Posa." 
 
 " Von Posa ! " echoed Leonard, who had 
 always been in the habit of considering his 
 character as the gem of the piece. 
 
 " You admire him do you ? " said Courte- 
 nay, taking up the book. " Yes, he engages 
 our interest from the very first. He sets out
 
 THE MEDICAL PRACTITIONER. 231 
 
 in life with an act of cowardice of which every 
 Eton schoolboy would be ashamed — throws a 
 shuttlecock into an old woman's eye, and then 
 allows the Prince to bear the penalty of his 
 fault/' 
 
 " But he regrets that episode in his his- 
 tory/' said Leonard, pointing to the lines — 
 
 " stille Prinz von diesen kindischen 
 Geschickten, die mich jetzt nocli scliamroth. maclien." 
 
 " Much good that did/' said Courtenay, " I 
 hate a knave ; but I think I hate him more if 
 he is sorry for it. And then the quantity of 
 vague philanthropic nonsense he talks to the 
 King, proves him to be an idiot of the first 
 water ! " 
 
 " Nay/' said Leonard, " I cannot but think 
 his appeal to Philip, in behalf of the Nether- 
 lands, full of eloquence and moral courage, and 
 dictated by the purest feelings of humanity." 
 
 " Well, I allow him to be a well-meaning 
 creature in some respects," returned Courtenay, 
 "but destitute of the faintest gleam of com-
 
 232 MR. WARRENNE, 
 
 mon sense. Where was the use of raving 
 about liberty of conscience to the greatest 
 bigot that ever sat on the throne of Spain? 
 And then, after floundering from one absurd 
 plot to another, to be shot like a dog, because 
 he could not help it ! A fit end for a man 
 who had not skill enough to play his own 
 game ! M 
 
 " But his aim throughout was to defend the 
 Prince at his own expense," said Leonard. 
 
 " And, like a clumsy fellow, lost himself, 
 and did his friend no good," returned Courte- 
 nay. But it is a fine poem after all. The 
 character of Elizabeth is exquisite, and that of 
 Karlos so highly coloured, that one speaks no 
 treason in naming him along with Hamlet. 
 That is a grand scene after the death of Posa : 
 there is one passage in which he bursts upon 
 the King with such a torrent of invective — 
 stay — it begins — " 
 
 As Mr. Courtenay turned the leaves of the 
 book to find the speech, there fell from it a
 
 THE MEDICAL PRACTITIONER. 233 
 
 card, on which the following names were 
 written with a pencil. 
 
 O'Neill, 
 
 De Merville, 
 
 Taylor, 
 
 Le Grange, 
 
 Roxby. 
 
 Courtenay, thinking that it was a list of 
 the dramatis personam, glanced over it. 
 
 " Eh \" said he, handing it to Leonard. 
 
 He had never been so confounded in his 
 life. He remembered having put down the 
 names of the five conspirators as he termed 
 them, the day on which he heard them spoken 
 of by the military cousin. 
 
 It was the most awkward thing in the 
 world. He could not explain the circumstance; 
 and to have written those names down at 
 random looked, to say the least of it, a little 
 like insanity. After gazing on the card with 
 an air of great vexation, he threw it angrily 
 into the fire.
 
 234 MR. WARRENNE, 
 
 Mr. Courtenay remained contemplating 
 him in silence for a minute with a quiet smile, 
 and then said, — 
 
 " You became very intimate, of course, 
 with Miss "Reynolds, when you were at Erles- 
 mede ?" 
 
 "I saw her occasionally," said Leonard; 
 "my sister is very well acquainted with 
 her aunt. I could not help meeting her 
 sometimes." 
 
 " Ah ! that was unpleasant !" said Cour- 
 tenay in a tone of sympathy. 
 
 "Not at all," replied Leonard, trying to 
 appear quite unconcerned; "they were very 
 pleasant people at the Ferns. 
 
 " I am glad you seem to have no particular 
 views in that quarter," said Courtenay iron- 
 ically. " You had better leave her to O'Neill, 
 or any one of them — they will be perfectly 
 well matched, depend upon it." 
 
 "As for views," said Leonard, "it is 
 impossible that I could entertain any with
 
 THE MEDICAL PRACTITIONER. 235 
 
 regard to a person so much above me in point 
 of fortune and position; but I have a great 
 respect for her, and for Mrs. Creswick, and I 
 confess that it would be the happiest day of 
 of my life in which I could put a bullet 
 through any one of those villains who engaged 
 in such a detestable act of treachery \ n 
 
 Mr. Courtenay looked vastly amused by the 
 vehemence with which his companion pro- 
 claimed his wishes. " Mrs. Creswick, I am 
 sure, would feel the compliment very keenly/' 
 he said, with a provoking smile. " By the way, 
 I think it was with Miss Reynolds with whom 
 you used to waltz ?" 
 
 " Certainly not with Mrs. Creswick/' said 
 Leonard, smiling at the very idea of waltzing 
 with that lady. And I have not danced with 
 Miss Reynolds more than two or three times, 
 and then quite by accident, when there were a 
 few people to dinner, and they got up a waltz 
 in the evening." 
 
 " I left Mr. Mills mourning your absence,
 
 236 MR. WARRENNE, 
 
 and informing everybody that he didn't know 
 what he should do without you/' said Cour- 
 tenay, as he rose to go. 
 
 " I shall not leave him to mourn long," said 
 Leonard. " I hope to be at my work in a day 
 or two." 
 
 " Why, you don't ^ike it I am sure," said 
 Courtenay. 
 
 " I like still less that other people should do 
 my business," returned Leonard. 
 
 " You need not be ceremonious, you know, 
 with such a fellow as old Mills," said Mr. 
 Courtenay. 
 
 " Nor he with me," said Leonard ; " we are 
 fellow-servants." 
 
 "Now, that's all pride, putting yourself on 
 a level with him," said Mr. Courtenay. 
 
 "I spoke only of my station, which is 
 palpable enough; I said nothing of myself" 
 returned Leonard. 
 
 He looked so like Maud as he spoke. 
 
 " Bravo!" said Mr. Courtenay, shaking
 
 THE MEDICAL PRACTITIONER. 237 
 
 hands with him, u take care of yourself till I 
 see you again. It's plain you want somebody 
 to look after you." 
 
 For several days Mr. Courtenay visited 
 Leonard regularly. He brought him books and 
 magazines, and remained for some time con- 
 versing with him, as if desirous to lighten the 
 tedium of his illness. He never again alluded 
 to the unfortunate card, much to the relief of 
 Leonard, who could ill bear his calm, ironical 
 manner on the subject* 
 
 Once, having found him arranging some 
 flowers in a glass, Mr. Courtenay brought him 
 a large cluster of white violets, which, he said, 
 came from Mr. Thomason's, where they grew 
 them, and asked him carelessly if Miss Reynolds 
 was fond of flowers. Leonard did not know ; 
 and Courtenay said that possibly, like the 
 French lady, she was not much addicted to 
 harmless pleasures. 
 
 In their literary discussions, Courtenay 
 seemed to take a pleasure in mystifying him,
 
 238 MR. WARRENNE, 
 
 and advancing the strangest opinions,, just to 
 hear what he would say; and Leonard ob- 
 served that he always took the most matter-of- 
 fact view possible of every subject, and that he 
 laughed unmercifully at the colouring of 
 romance, with which Leonard was apt to invest 
 any topic that pleased his fancy. He even, 
 as they grew more intimate, frequently applied 
 to him the name of the German book that he 
 had lent him — " Moonshine." 
 
 But finding in a few days that he grew 
 rather worse than better, Courtenay insisted on 
 his going down to Erlesmede, to put himself 
 under his father's care, and backed his advice 
 by a message from Mr. Thomason, to the effect 
 that he was at liberty to absent himself from 
 the office for a few weeks in order to re-esta- 
 blish his health. 
 
 To Leonard this permission was like a 
 respite from death. He had a fanciful pre- 
 sentiment that he should not recover in Lon- 
 don, and that the air of Erlesmede would work
 
 THE MEDICAL PRACTITIONER. 239 
 
 his immediate cure. He wrote home instantly 
 to apprise his family of his coming, and fol- 
 lowed his letter down without delay.
 
 240 MR. WARRENNE, 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 Iforza. The pulse 
 
 Beats on sometimes when the heart runs quite down. 
 
 Bianca Visconti 
 
 Sir I. — My son Ben ! Bless thee my dear boy ! Body o' me, 
 thou art heartily welcome ! 
 
 Love for Love. 
 
 " Leonard,, my dear boy/' said Mr. Warrenne, 
 a few days after his son's arrival, " I shall not 
 ride to-day ; the white horse is at your service 
 if you have a mind to go out, and it will be 
 better for you than walking. 
 
 Leonard accepted with much pleasure. 
 
 The horse was ordered out, and he set off
 
 THE MEDICAL PRACTITIONER. 241 
 
 on a ramble across the country. It was a sort 
 of day that Leonard particularly liked at that 
 season of the year; — dull, dark, and rather 
 misty, with now and then a storm of wind. The 
 night had been very boisterous, and as he rode 
 down the lane, a number of broken branches 
 strewed about gave earnest of the violence of 
 the storm. The air was not at all cold ; and 
 the wind coming from the south-west, had 
 nothing chilling in its breath : and Leonard 
 rode on and on, very like a philosopher, without 
 caring where he went, or how far he should 
 have to go back again. About five miles from 
 Erlesmede there was a wide desolate common, 
 on the other side of which stood a broad belt of 
 tall spreading trees, through which the road 
 passed. This was always a bleak solitarj^ part 
 of the country, and many a tale of footpads and 
 highway robbers was connected with the com- 
 mon and thicket : indeed, one particular angle 
 of the road was called by the country people 
 Dead Man's Corner, in commemoration of a 
 
 VOL. I. M
 
 242 MR. WARRENNE, 
 
 horrid murder, which it is needless to detail, 
 committed on a poor man, who was buried 
 by his assassin on the spot, and not discovered 
 until many years after. In crossing this com- 
 mon, the wind rose rapidly, and with such fury, 
 that Leonard seemed in some danger of being 
 blown off his horse. He had half a mind to 
 turn back, but seeing in front of him a low car- 
 riage, in which was a lady, driven by a man, he 
 thought tha* if she could brave the weather, it 
 could hardly be bad enough to check his pro- 
 gress. The carriage was just entering into the 
 thicket, and might have been about a hundred 
 yards in advance of him, when suddenly the 
 wind swept as if in a circle : a large tree was 
 uptorn by the roots, and fell steadily forward 
 upon the travellers. A sharp cry seemed to 
 mingle with the roar of the wind, and the crash 
 of the enormous branches of the tree. Leonard 
 reined up for a moment, completely paralysed, 
 so sudden and yet so quiet was the work of 
 destruction, — then dashed forward to see if
 
 THE MEDICAL PRACTITIONER. 243 
 
 any assistance could yet avail the sufferers. 
 The trunk had fallen so as to crush down one 
 side of the low pony carriage, with the man 
 who had been driving; the horse killed and 
 forced down on one knee, in a strange position, 
 with his head turned back ; but the lady, by 
 some capricious growth of the branches on that 
 side of the tree, was providentially saved from 
 death, or even, it seemed, from any serious 
 injury. 
 
 But she was almost insensible from ter- 
 ror, and she neither replied to Leonard's 
 anxious enquiries, nor seemed to hear what he 
 said to her. She was leaning back in the car- 
 riage with her eyes wide open and directed for- 
 ward ; but it was evident that " their sense was 
 shut." He felt in a complete dilemma. In 
 the first place an intricate screen of boughs in- 
 tervened between him and the unfortunate 
 lady j in the next place, he did not know what 
 to make of her condition. She was not exactly 
 in a swoon, nor yet in her senses ; and then 
 
 m 2
 
 244 MR. WARRENNE, 
 
 again it was possible that the unhappy man, 
 crushed so horribly at her side, might be her 
 husband : if so, how dreadful would be her 
 return to consciousness. 
 
 Most gladly did he welcome the approach 
 of a couple of woodmen, who, with axe in hand, 
 were returning from their work. Under his 
 direction, they cleared the branches around the 
 lady, sufficiently to admit of his withdrawing 
 her from the carriage, and leading her to some 
 distance among the trees. 
 
 After supporting her onwards for a few 
 moments, she shuddered violently, and said 
 indistinctly several times, " Oh, horrible I" 
 Then, attempting to turn back, she ex- 
 claimed — 
 
 "But where is Harper? I am sure he 
 must be terribly hurt." 
 
 "I entreat you, Madam," said Leonard 
 holding her back. " I cannot suffer you to see 
 him — nothing you can do will avail him — his 
 sufferings are over."
 
 THE MEDICAL PRACTITIONER. 245 
 
 She covered lier eyes with her hand for a 
 moment, and then suddenly looking up, ex- 
 claimed as she pressed forward, — 
 
 " We are not yet sure that nothing can be 
 done — he may be only stunned ; — he is a very 
 old servant," she added. "I shall be dis- 
 tressed, indeed, to lose him !" 
 
 Leonard again interposed — he knew well 
 enough that life must be extinct — he assured 
 her that the spectacle was appalling to himself, 
 and quite unfit for her to witness. 
 
 The lady seemed greatly agitated, and after 
 a short silence she said, in a voice so low that 
 he could hardly catch the words, — 
 
 " And to whom am I indebted for so much 
 kindness." 
 
 "My name is Warrenne, Madam," said 
 Leonard ; " and I beg you to believe that any- 
 thing I can do farther to assist you will give 
 me much satisfaction." 
 
 "Warrenne;" said the lady turning her 
 eyes for the first time upon him ; " singular !"
 
 246 
 
 There was a pause, during which Leonard 
 surveyed, in his turn, the lady whom he was 
 escorting. Every trace of youth, and of the 
 beauty which is dependant on youth, had long 
 left her countenance ; but there remained a 
 delightful regularity of feature, a sweetness in 
 the dark eyes, a serenity on the brow, a repose 
 that was intellectual, not physical, in the 
 expression, which with some persons would 
 make amends for the graces of which time had 
 robbed her. 
 
 " I think I must trespass on you, so far as 
 to beg that you will conduct me home. I 
 believe my house is the nearest place to this, 
 said the lady feebly; "we must send for 
 workmen to remove this poor man. Thank 
 God he has no wife or family; but how to 
 reach my house " 
 
 " It is but an unpleasant mode of convey- 
 ance," — said Leonard ; " but my horse is very 
 quiet, and if I lead him, you need not be 
 under the least apprehension."
 
 THE MEDICAL PRACTITIONER. 247 
 
 The lady consented immediately to this 
 plan, and Leonard having brought up his 
 horse lifted her on it, and half supporting her 
 on the saddle walked by her side. They went 
 on in silence, except from time to time when 
 they came to a turning, he asked her which 
 road he was to follow. At last after about 
 three miles, which appeared to Leonard almost 
 interminable, they came to a long line of 
 plantations, after which the lady directed him 
 to open a massive gate in a stone archway 
 which led them through a thick deep wood by 
 a winding path, to the carved porch of a gothic 
 building. The man-servant who opened the 
 hall door looked greatly astonished to see his 
 lady return in such a manner, and said respect- 
 fully, as she entered leaning on Leonard's arm, 
 that he feared there had been some accident. 
 
 " An awful one," she replied and passed in. 
 
 As soon as she reached the drawing-room 
 she sank into a low chair, and after making 
 some ineffectual attempts to speak, fainted away.
 
 248 MR. WARRENNE, 
 
 It was not absolutely necessary for a 
 woman to be young and pretty to excite 
 Leonard's sympathy and interest, but this 
 was a case in which he could do nothing 
 beyond ringing the bell and consigning her to 
 the care. of her maid; and then feeling that 
 he had been absent an unconscionable time, 
 and that those at home would be anxious for 
 his return, and not thinking it at all necessary 
 to remain to receive the lady's thanks for his 
 services, he went out into the hall and asked 
 for his horse. The quiet grey haired servant 
 who answered his application, detained him a 
 few moments to ask an account of the adventure 
 which Leonard gave, to his infinite horror and 
 surprise, and he learned in his turn, that the 
 name of the lady he had assisted was Mrs. 
 Digby, and the poor man who was killed was 
 her steward. He had driven his lady to some 
 almshouses on the other side of her estate 
 and was returning when the fatal accident 
 occurred.
 
 THE MEDICAL PRACTITIONER. 249 
 
 "It was then, Mrs. Digby whom I met 
 so strangely," said Leonard on hearing her 
 name. 
 
 "Mrs. LMgby of Forrel Court/' said the 
 quiet servant, with a slight increase of import- 
 ance in his manner. 
 
 Leonard looked up at the old scutcheon in 
 front of the ancient porch, with the idea that 
 he either knew or ought to know something 
 of the person bearing that name, but the 
 chevron gules and the eagle's heads in chief, 
 did not appear to enlighten him, and returning 
 the courteous salutation of the old man he 
 rode slowly off. 
 
 " He had not overrated the anxiety which 
 his sisters would be feeling at his absence. 
 When he returned, they were waiting in the 
 most painful uncertainty ; and Mr. Scudamore, 
 who had dropped in to chink tea, as he did 
 about every other night, was promising Maud 
 that he would set out to look for him in 
 another ten minutes. Even Mr. Warrenne was 
 
 m 3
 
 250 MR. WARRENNE, 
 
 walking up and down the room; a sure sign 
 with him of being thoroughly uncomfortable. 
 
 His narrative was eagerly listened to by the 
 whole party. Maud thought it an adventure ; 
 Mr. Scudamore proclaimed it a* coincidence; 
 Mr. Warrenne said nothing, but sighed deeply 
 once or twice; and Alice, drawing nearer to 
 him, whispered — 
 
 " The grandfather told us, papa, that Mrs. 
 Digby was in love with you, a great many years 
 ago." 
 
 " He made a little mistake, my dear," said 
 Mr. Warrenne, quietly; and Alice asked no 
 more questions. 
 
 While they were at tea, Dinah entered with a 
 note for Mr. Warrenne ; a few lines from Mrs. 
 Digby begging him to visit her immediately, 
 and stating that her carriage should fetch him 
 and bring him back. 
 
 " How very odd," said Maud, when her 
 father was gone ; <m Mrs. Digby has never had 
 papa before."
 
 THE MEDICAL PRACTITIONER. 251 
 
 " Then you may depend on it she was never 
 ill," said Mr. Scudamore. 
 
 " Not ill for thirty years ! what a fortunate 
 person/' said Maud. " But I shall regret 
 Leonard's share in the adventure if it increases 
 his cough." 
 
 " I am quite well/' said Leonard ; u I began 
 to mend directly I got out of London. Cour- 
 tenay said that I should." 
 
 "It seems so strange to hear you speak 
 familiarly of that horrid person/' said Maud, 
 smiling. 
 
 " If it had not been for him, I should not 
 have come down at all/' said Leonard. "I 
 told you his manner was quite altered." 
 
 " I cannot understand it/' said Alice. 
 
 Maud turned away her head. 
 
 " Hollo ! somebody else wanting your 
 father/' said Mr. Scudamore, as the gate bell 
 rang violently. 
 
 " Papa will be quite repandu if this goes
 
 252 MR. WARREN NE, 
 
 on," said Maud rising : " come, Alice, let us 
 give the grandfather a duet." 
 
 She had not finished speaking, when the 
 door flew open, and Mrs. Thorns, all splashed 
 and out of breath, hurried into the room. 
 
 " Oh ! you are a pretty father ! " said she, 
 going straight up to her astonished brother, " a 
 very pretty father, on my word; to be out 
 drinking tea when your son is come home — in 
 a post-chaise-and-four, straight from Hastings 
 — the ship went to pieces not five hours ago-^ 
 the hurricane, you know — tore up three trees 
 in the Cowslip meadow — and a mercy he was 
 saved at all, seeing he was so lame — and how 
 are you getting on Master Leonard ? 
 
 "What! Dick come home?" saiof Mr. 
 Scudamore, starting up, and laughing to con- 
 ceal his emotion; "and shipwrecked too — ha! 
 ha ! — then, Queen Maud, I am off. I shall 
 bring him here as soon as possible, you may 
 depend, just to hear your opinion of him." 
 
 Mr. JScudamore was outside the door in an
 
 THE MEDICAL PRACTITIONER. 253 
 
 instant ; hut Mrs. Thorns lingered a moment 
 behind, to say — 
 
 " He's very handsome, if he was not so 
 yellow ; bat, as I said to Louisa, beauty has 
 nothing at all to do with it — not that I ever 
 thought Thompson so ugly as they all did — he 
 would have been drowned if a gentleman had 
 not helped him into a boat — three tree^ in the 
 Cowslip meadow — but he is in a hurry — good 
 night !
 
 254 MR. WAlUiENNE, 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 Vil. — What does the world say of me ? 
 Sea. — The world behaves itself as it uses to do on such 
 occasions. 
 
 Love for Love. 
 
 It will easily be believed that the village had 
 enough to talk about for some time to come. 
 The wonderful escape of Mrs. Digby went 
 through a great variety of editions ; but 
 everybody seemed to agree that Leonard War- 
 renne had some share in the adventure. 
 This was remarkably near the truth, for a 
 village narrative. Of course a good many 
 people stoutly maintained that it was Leonard
 
 
 THE MEDICAL PRACTITIONER. 255 
 
 who had been crushed by the tree, and bene- 
 volently carried by Mrs. Digby to her house, 
 where he was now lying, slowly recovering 
 from his accident, under her careful nursing. 
 For it is a very common practice in rural 
 districts to retain a slight outline of the par- 
 ticulars in any little affair of this kind, and to 
 reverse the parts which the people concerned 
 in it have played. Leonard's appearance at 
 church on the following Sunday, tended rather 
 to contradict the prevailing opinions, particu- 
 larly as he bore no traces of having been a 
 victim. 
 
 It was rather a pity that Captain Scuda- 
 more, who had for the last few days divided 
 with Leonard the curiosity and the gossip of 
 the village, was unable to show himself at 
 church on the same day. A man who had just 
 been shipwrecked, and saved from drowning 
 by the exertions of Sir Frederic Manning, a 
 gentleman whose eccentricities were the talk 
 of the county, would have been equally ex-
 
 256 MR. WARRENNE, 
 
 posed to the scrutiny of the congregation. But 
 the injury he had received in his knee had 
 been so aggravated by the hurry and exertion 
 of escaping from the wreck, that he was for the 
 present a close prisoner to his room, and 
 threatened by Mr. Warrenne with the tic dolou- 
 roux if he infringed his directions. Leonard, 
 therefore, had the attention of the parish all 
 to himself. One would think they had never 
 seen a young man of twenty before ! He could 
 not turn his head or raise his eyes without 
 finding fifty enquiring looks fastened upon his 
 face. Miss Reynolds alone seemed not to share 
 in the general curiosity. Mrs. Creswick gave him 
 a nod and a kindly smile ; and the little Colo- 
 nel paused to whisper to him, over the pew 
 door, that he was " quite a hero." But Flo- 
 rence, after a quick, sudden glance, and a 
 slight increase of colour as she passed him, 
 swept on in her black velvet bonnet and crim- 
 son cachemire, determined to look haughty 
 and indifferent.
 
 THE MEDICAL PRACTITIONER. 257 
 
 The service proceeded : and Mr. Ranger 
 in that calm and sonorous voice that charmed 
 even his un-friends to attention, gave out, after 
 the names of one or two sick persons who 
 begged for the prayers of the congregation, 
 that " Richard Scndamore desired to return 
 thanks to Almighty God for his late escape 
 from shipwreck." 
 
 Alice felt the colour rise to her cheeks, and 
 the tears to her eyes ; she could hardly explain 
 to herself why she was thus affected ; but she 
 could not get those few words out of her head 
 during the whole service. 
 
 " I was so pleased/' she said, reverting, 
 with a little hesitation to the circumstance as 
 she was walking home with her sister ; " I felt 
 glad, Maud, for your sake." 
 
 " For my sake ! " exclaimed Maud ; " dear 
 Alice ! pray be glad for the young man. It 
 is a good thing to find that he has a little 
 decency ; but pray don't jumble him and me 
 together in your head ! Leonard, do make
 
 258 MR. WARRENNE, 
 
 haste ; there is Mrs. Creswick loitering at the 
 gate on purpose to speak to you." 
 
 " I won't keep you back, then/' said Leo- 
 nard; "but I am going, with Mr. Scudamore, 
 to the Woodlands to be introduced to his 
 son." 
 
 " O ! then run, dear," said Maud ; " such 
 a treasure as Dick ought not to be kept wait- 
 ing for his dinner or his luncheon, or whatever 
 he has at this time of day. My love to the 
 grandfather ; and tell Mrs. Thorns that if her 
 patience wears thin, she had better hand Dick 
 over to Jack Robins, and come and stay with 
 me till he gets well again." 
 
 Mrs. Creswick was lingering by the church- 
 yard gate to see Leonard. She had always 
 liked him very much ; and she had been rather 
 surprised to find that he had been at home some 
 days without calling upon her. It crossed her 
 mind at first that there might be some coolness 
 between Leonard and her niece ; for she was 
 well aware that Florence exercised her power
 
 THE MEDICAL PRACTITIONER. 259 
 
 and her caprice upon all who approached her ; 
 and she had sometimes thought with anxiety 
 that his countenance betrayed more interest 
 than was quite within the limits of acquaint- 
 anceship ; but upon mentioning carelessly one 
 morning to Florence that she had half expected 
 young Warrenne to have paid them a visit, it 
 did not quite appear that Florence remembered 
 who he was — and when she was made to under- 
 stand that her aunt was speaking of Mr. War- 
 renne's son, her manner expressed such total 
 indifference as to whether he came or stayed 
 away, that Mrs. Creswick hoped and concluded 
 she was mistaken in her inference. She did 
 not know how often Florence had loitered 
 about the garden and paced the laurel walk in 
 the hope that Leonard might be coming to see 
 her ; how often she had thought over their last 
 scene with bitter vexation at the part she had 
 played — how she had wondered at herself when 
 all was over — how she had resolved that her 
 future manner should be all kindness, all con-
 
 260 MR. WARRENNE, 
 
 sideration, when they met ; — not that she could 
 ever marry a young man with his prospects, — 
 but that she reluctantly confessed to herself, — 
 she loved him. It seemed as if the ideal and 
 romantic picture of friendship which Leonard 
 had wished to establish between them, had been 
 transferred into her mind — she fancied that it 
 would be delightful to promote his interests, to 
 be his confidant, to receive his homage, and to 
 reign over his heart, without surrendering her 
 own. But when day after day passed without 
 his calling, she felt that her power had 
 passed away; — she tried to become care- 
 less, and assumed an indifference that 
 was hardly natural towards an intimate 
 acquaintance, in order to conceal from all 
 eyes the keenness of her mortification. 
 
 "I was just waiting to speak to my old friend 
 Leonard," said Mrs. Creswick, as Maud came up ; 
 u has he been ill or busy that we have never seen 
 him?" 
 
 " He has been ill, my dear Mrs. Creswick,"
 
 THE MEDICAL PRACTITIONER. 261 
 
 said Maud, " and the first day lie ventured out 
 he met with an adventure that brought back 
 his cough — to-day is only his second appear- 
 ance." 
 
 " And how has he vanished now V said 
 Mrs. Creswick, " I saw him come out of church 
 with you." 
 
 " Mr. Scudamore carried him off to see his 
 son •" replied Maud. 
 
 u Perhaps you can give us the true version 
 of this affair of your brother's/' said Florence, 
 turning coldly to Maud, " had he anything to 
 do with saving Captain Scudamore ?" 
 
 " Nothing at all," replied Maud, with equal 
 coldness. 
 
 " Oh ! no — it was Sir Frederic Manning !" 
 exclaimed Alice. 
 
 Mrs. Creswick smiled — Florence coloured 
 angrily. 
 
 " Oh ! — Sir Frederic is the hero, instead of 
 your brother ;" said Florence. 
 
 " Just so," said Maud.
 
 262 MR. WARRENNE, 
 
 " You never go to balls, I think," said Flo- 
 rence, as they walked on. 
 
 " Never," said Maud. 
 
 " Perhaps you do not dance V 9 said Flo- 
 rence. 
 
 " I have learned," replied Maud, quietly. 
 
 " Sir Frederic's name put me in mind of 
 the R — ball," said Florence ; " he came in a 
 shooting jacket; never danced — and behaved 
 so very oddly !" 
 
 " I am almost afraid that young man 
 drinks ;" said Mrs. Creswick. 
 
 " My dear aunt," said Florence, laughing, 
 "you are ' almost afraid ' of a fact that the 
 whole county has recognised ever since I can 
 remember." 
 
 " I did not know," Alice began, but she did 
 not venture to conclude her protest against the 
 formidable Miss Reynolds. 
 
 " Alice is going to tell us something that 
 we shall all be glad to hear, in favour of Sir 
 Frederic ;" remarked Mrs. Creswick.
 
 THE MEDICAL PRACTITIONER. 263 
 
 " I can tell you plenty in his favour, my 
 dear Mrs. Creswick," said Maud, who felt the 
 tremulous pressure of her sister's hand on her 
 arm, and who cared nothing for the half-shut 
 eyes of Miss Reynolds. " Papa often says, 
 that he now r here sees such active kindness as 
 that of Sir Frederic to his tenants. When he 
 hears of any case of distress or illness, he never 
 rests until he has done all in his power to alle- 
 viate it. And his conduct at the wreck was 
 really very daring, for the sea was so rough that 
 nobody would venture to save the passengers, 
 until he led the way." 
 
 "I think nothing of these adventures," 
 said Florence ; " every gentleman is supposed 
 to be brave. Besides, that proves nothing 
 against his drinking." 
 
 As she spoke, a horseman, riding at the 
 most reckless speed, passed them; leaped a 
 gate at a little distance down the road, and 
 continued his way at the same rate across the 
 fields.
 
 264 MR. WARRENNE, 
 
 " There goes your hero/' observed Flo- 
 rence, turning scornfully towards Maud. "I 
 hope you have something to say for his 
 morality, in scouring the country after that 
 fashion, instead of going to church ? and pray 
 add courtesy to his catalogue of virtues, in 
 dashing past ladies and splashing them with 
 mud as he passes. I pity your velvet cloak, 
 my dear aunt." 
 
 " A mere trifle/' said Mrs. Creswick, shak- 
 ing from her mantle a few drops which had 
 been flung up by the horse's hoofs. And now 
 that we have done with Sir Frederic, let me 
 hear all about Leonard, my dear Maud." 
 
 While Maud was giving Mrs. Creswick an 
 account of her brother, Florence, wrapping her 
 boa closer round her throat, walked briskly 
 forward, as if she felt the cold; and then 
 lingering at the iron gate of the Ferns, waited 
 for her aunt to come up to her. 
 
 "And the rest I think I will hear from 
 himself," were the concluding words of Mrs.
 
 THE MEDICAL PRACTITIONER. 265 
 
 Creswick, as see joined her niece; "bring hirn 
 with you, my dear, to-morrow." 
 
 " I wish I could," said Maud to Alice, as 
 they went it at their own garden gate ; " but 
 you know, that nothing will induce him to 
 come with me to the Ferns." 
 
 " I quite agree with him," said Alice, 
 quietly ; " Miss Reynolds is a great deal too 
 much to encounter." 
 
 Leonard returned from the Woodlands very 
 much pleased with his visit. Captain Scuda- 
 more had been so friendly, and had appeared 
 so much obliged by his sitting with him for a 
 couple of hours, that he felt much gratified. 
 
 "For it really is something unusual," he 
 remarked to Maud, " for a gentleman to take 
 any notice whatever of a person in my station." 
 
 Any allusion to the inferiority of his posi- 
 tion, always nettled Maud, and it was partly 
 on this account that he started the subject. 
 
 " Your station ! " she exclaimed, with flash- 
 ing eyes; "is there any possible occupation 
 
 VOL. I. N
 
 266 MR. WARRENNE, 
 
 that could wash the old blood out of your 
 veins ? If you were to sweep the streets, could 
 that prevent you from being descended from 
 the favourite of Charlemagne ? n 
 
 " Do you know Maud, my dear/' returned 
 Leonard, " that in the old times, any member 
 of the noblesse who meddled with commerce, 
 forfeited, thenceforward, all the advantages of 
 his birth ? That is the way they managed 
 things in France. And very right, too — for 
 nothing is more opposed to the enlightened 
 and graceful spirit of chivalry than the habits 
 and principles of every kind of traffic." 
 
 " You are so prejudiced on that subject," 
 said Maud. 
 
 " Yes ; they were wise in those old times," 
 said Leonard, warming as he went on. " The 
 vassal, the agricultural labourer, who followed 
 his lord to the field, might stand a chance of 
 attracting the attention of his monarch by his 
 services, and of passing, by the consecration of 
 knighthood, into the noble class ; but no cir-
 
 THE MEDICAL PRACTITIONER. 267 
 
 cumstance, no amount of wealth, could ever 
 enable a trader to emerge from the condition 
 in which he was born. His privileges were 
 secured to his order ; but no successful specu- 
 lation, no greedy profusion of gold could ever 
 obtain for him an admission into the charmed 
 circle of the aristocracy. Honour was in those 
 days rendered to the sword and the lyre ; but 
 never to the sensual abundance, which, if it be 
 but excessive enough, will now entitle a man 
 to aspire to the highest society in the country." 
 
 " Well ; now I could say a great deal for 
 the merchant princes of Genoa and Venice," 
 said Maud; "but as dinner is on the table, 
 Master Leonard, I will rather try how I can 
 cut up this fowl." 
 
 Maud asked no particular questions re- 
 specting Leonard's visit to the Woodlands 
 during dinner. Mr. Warrenne disliked every 
 species of gossip, and never indulged in details 
 himself. He always wondered what it could 
 signify to her, if Maud asked what such a 
 
 n 2
 
 268 MR. WARRENNE, 
 
 person wore, or who such a person was going 
 to marry. Now Maud, like a "very woman," 
 was fond of these trifling particulars ; but 
 then, like a " very woman," she was wiser than 
 to bore her father about them. 
 
 But, after dinner, when Mr. Warrenne was 
 dozing in his easy chair, and Maud and her 
 sister had drawn close to the fire, while Leo- 
 nard, lounging on the sofa, was peeling walnuts 
 for Alice, her catechism began. 
 
 "Let me see — the grandfather dines be- 
 tween the services, on Sunday, does he not ? " 
 said Maud. 
 
 " He does. I took luncheon at the same 
 time," replied Leonard. 
 
 "Does Mrs. Thorns trot about the room 
 during dinner ? " asked Maud ; she always does 
 at luncheon; but I have never happened to 
 dine there." 
 
 "No; but she talks all the time to Jack 
 Robins, who stands behind her chair, about the 
 crops and the poultry, and the neighbours.
 
 THE MEDICAL PRACTITIONER. 269 
 
 She says she cannot endure being waited on 
 by regular servants. She calls them cox- 
 combs. Mr. Scudamore's man never ventures 
 to hand her a dish." 
 
 " How she would rejoice in Karl/' said 
 Alice laughing. " I am sure nobody could 
 accuse him of being a regular servant." 
 
 "Yes; she says we are very fortunate in 
 Karl; but, Fll tell you — there is one thing 
 she would miss dreadfully — Karl could never 
 bring her all the scandal of the village, as Jack 
 Robins does." 
 
 " True ; that would be a great loss," said 
 Maud; "but, now let us approach our great 
 subject. Alice is longing to hear a full, true, 
 and particular account of Dick ! " 
 
 " Oh, Maud ! " interposed Alice. 
 
 " I am sure Alice has no curiosity about 
 him," said Leonard; but I knew you would 
 never rest long without making enquiries. 
 Oh ! he is a very nice fellow. I like his man- 
 ners — he stops up in his room, at present."
 
 270 MR. WARRENNE, 
 
 "There is a man's description! — go on/' 
 said Maud. 
 
 " Oh ! I don't know — he is very handsome, 
 I think — he is rather like Mr. Scudamore — 
 and he has such a small hand — I thought of 
 you, and your aversion to large-handed people/' 
 
 " A small hand I that is a decided virtue/' 
 said Maud. 
 
 " Papa has small hands," said Alice. 
 
 " But Miss Reynolds has not," said Maud. 
 
 " But such a splendid hand ! " exclaimed 
 Leonard ; " so white, and beautifully formed ! " 
 
 " Splendid I on the same principle that 
 nurses persist in calling every broad, stout 
 baby ajine child ! " 
 
 " Oh, Maud ! jealous !" exclaimed Leonard. 
 
 " Yes ; I have cause," retorted Maud, glanc- 
 ing down on her own slender fingers. 
 
 " Ah ! that reminds me that he has never 
 called on Mrs. Creswick," said Alice. 
 
 "True; he must go to-morrow," said 
 Maud.
 
 THE MEDICAL PRACTITIONER. 271 
 
 " Indeed I cannot ; I am engaged to dine 
 at the Woodlands/' replied Leonard. 
 
 " They dine late on week days/' said Maud. 
 
 " Ay; but I go early," returned Leonard. 
 
 " I told you so/' said Alice, significantly. 
 
 " What did your wisdom tell her ? " said 
 Leonard, presenting Alice with the walnut he 
 had peeled. 
 
 " That you were afraid of Miss Reynolds/' 
 replied Alice. 
 
 " Oh ! that's absurd. I will go any day that 
 I have time," said Leonard, hastily. 
 
 " But we have not done with Dick, yet/' 
 said Maud. " What did you talk about ? " 
 
 " We talked about Alberic. He gave me a 
 description of Alberic's camel — he keeps a 
 riding-camel — and we talked about the field- 
 sports of India. He made me long to go 
 there." 
 
 " Long ! I should think so ! " exclaimed 
 Alice. "What would I give to find myself 
 there, but for a day ? "
 
 272 MR. WARREKNE, 
 
 "Fancy— 'A Day in the East!'" said 
 Leonard, laughing. 
 
 " Well ; and what else did you talk about ?" 
 asked Maud. 
 
 tt I hardly know. He asked rne lots of 
 questions, and he seemed in very good spirits; 
 he jested with Mrs. Thorns about everything, 
 and stuck a long peacock's feather in her old 
 bonnet, and then begged she would go and show 
 herself to Jack Robins." 
 
 " Was she angry ? " asked Alice. 
 
 " No ; she was highly delighted," 
 
 " Is not it odd she never goes to church ? " 
 asked Maud. 
 
 " There ; you cannot keep to your subject, 
 though you are so curious," said Leonard ; 
 " now I will not answer you a single question 
 more about Dick." 
 
 " Oh ! one question, Leonard," said Alice, 
 earnestly. c< I have been longing to ask you 
 just one thing." 
 
 "I said nothing about you/' replied Leo-
 
 THE MEDICAL PRACTITIONER. 273 
 
 nard; "perhaps I may answer your ques- 
 tion." 
 
 "Did not Captain Scudamore ask you a 
 great deal about Maud ? " 
 
 " No, as it happened, he did not," said 
 Leonard ; " he was very inquisitive about my 
 youngest sister; he seemed to have heard a 
 great deal about your playing, Alice." 
 
 Alice's soft face was suffused with blushes. 
 Maud looked a little surprised, but not at all 
 vexed. 
 
 "And now," said she, "let us hear what 
 the grandfather gave you for dinner ? " 
 
 "My dear Maud," said Mr. Warrenne, 
 waking up and joining in the conversation 
 " what can that possibly matter to any of us V 
 
 s 3
 
 274 MR. WARRENNE, 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 -And be sure 
 
 You credit anything the light gives light to 
 Before a man. Rather believe the sea 
 Weeps for the ruin'd merchant when he roars — 
 Bather the wind courts but the pregnant sails 
 When the strong cordage cracks. 
 
 Beaumont and Fletcher. 
 
 Mr. Waitenne's time was now pretty much 
 taken up between Mrs. Digby and Captain Scu- 
 damore. Mrs. Digby's health was terribly 
 shaken by the fright she had experienced, but 
 in a few days she persuaded Mr. Warrenne that 
 she was sufficiently recovered to see Leonard, 
 with whom she expressed herself very anxious 
 to become acquainted.
 
 THE MEDICAL PRACTITIONER. 275 
 
 Leonard could give his sisters but little 
 account of his first visit to Mrs. Digby. He 
 staid only a short time — was quite confused by 
 her expressions of gratitude, brief and graceful 
 though they were — admired her black velvet 
 dress, and the beautiful hands, whose pearly 
 whiteness was still untouched by the destroying 
 finger of time ; and was quite enchanted by the 
 sweetness of her manners. She pressed him to 
 come the next day that he might go over her 
 conservatories ; and the day after, that he 
 might take home a particular flower for his 
 father, which was to have blown by that time, 
 but did not, and involved two or three more 
 visits. 
 
 He soon became so intimate with Mrs. 
 Digby, that he found himself talking to her 
 with the openness of an old acquaintance ; and 
 she appeared to interest herself in his plans and 
 ideas, and to draw from him his favourite pur- 
 suits and studies. 
 
 " You must come and see my garden in the
 
 276 MR. WARRENNE, 
 
 summer/' she said one day, observing the 
 glances of admiration he cast from the window 
 upon the smooth lawns and broad terraces : " it 
 is not quite devoid of beauty at this season, but 
 Palmer and I are very proud of it about June." 
 
 " I should be delighted," said Leonard ; ' ' but 
 I return to London in a fortnight, and during 
 the summer I must be contented with a less 
 attractive prospect." 
 
 "I have an idea that you do not find the 
 gaieties of London compensate for the pleasures 
 of the country," remarked Mrs. Digby. 
 
 u Why, Madam," said Leonard, frankly, " I 
 have neither time nor means to share in its 
 gaieties ; and to be plain with you, my situa- 
 tion does not allow me access to the kind of 
 society which alone would content me. I see 
 nothing of London, but its worst streets, and a 
 bit of the Thames if I have a mind to look out 
 of the office window." 
 
 " And you do not like your employment I 
 am afraid," said Mrs. Digby.
 
 THE MEDICAL PRACTITIONER. 277 
 
 " No farther than as it enables me to be in- 
 dependent," said Leonard ; " but that is a great 
 comfort, I could not endure at my age to be a 
 burden to my father." 
 
 " Perhaps you would rather have followed 
 your father's profession," said Mrs. Digby. 
 
 " By no means, Madam/' replied Leonard. 
 " I don't think there is in the world a more ill- 
 paid servant to the public than a medical man \ 
 ill-paid, not only in money, but also in grati- 
 tude and consideration." 
 
 " It has always appeared to me," said Mrs. 
 Digby, " that there are some occupations which 
 in themselves tend to advance and elevate the 
 character. The profession of a clergyman, for 
 instance, speaks for itself — it is a devotion of 
 all a man's energies to the highest good of his 
 fellow creatures : it is the closest imitation of 
 the life of Christ that is known to us on earth. 
 And a medical man, who habitually gives his 
 skill and his labour to the poor, as so many do, 
 without the slightest chance of remuneration,
 
 278 MR. WARRENNE, 
 
 often without even the recompense of thanks, is 
 fulfilling one of the divinest laws of our re- 
 ligion. In fact, wherever self is forgotten, 
 Mr. Leonard, the pursuit is ennobled; and 
 those who make gain, which is the tribute 
 money to self, the first object of their lives, 
 depart the farthest from the Divine example." 
 
 " I believe," said Leonard, " that a medical 
 man enjoys as much of that satisfaction which 
 arises from disinterested labour as any one; 
 but I can speak confidently of the great variety 
 of annoyances to which he is exposed. As 
 to the impertinence and ingratitude of poor 
 people, it can never be a cause of serious vexa- 
 tion to a gentleman. It is all you can expect 
 of them. But the caprice of a higher class 
 of patients is more important, because its 
 consequences are more injurious. The reasons 
 for which an honest and experienced medical 
 man is often dismissed _from a family, would 
 appear perfectly impossible to you, unless you 
 were behind the scenes."
 
 THE MEDICAL PRACTITIONER. 279 
 
 " I have never taken that view of the case," 
 said Mrs. Digby ; " for I should not dream of 
 changing a medical adviser, unless something 
 very serious could be urged, either against his 
 talents or his character." 
 
 (t People would hesitate about withdrawing 
 from a tradesman who served them well with 
 bread or candles," said Leonard. " They 
 would hardly consider themselves justified in 
 injuring his credit by such a mark of disap- 
 proval. But the slightest whim justifies people 
 in casting off a medical adviser ; where the in- 
 jury is inconceivably greater to his circum- 
 stances. For anything of popularity hangs by 
 a thread; and, unfortunately, his subsistence 
 is dependant upon popular opinion. I often 
 think that my father, if he had but been a 
 smooth knave, (for roguery in these days must 
 either be very smooth or very rough), would 
 have amassed a large fortune by this time." 
 
 " Instead of which he has laid up for him- 
 self the grateful prayers of the poor, and the
 
 280 MR. WARRENNE, 
 
 love and respect of the rich," said Mrs. 
 Digby. 
 
 " No, no, madam, these are the rewards of 
 the story-books/' said Leonard, laughing; 
 f ' there are very few people, rich or poor, who 
 either think or speak well of an honest man. 
 He is an animal entirely above their compre- 
 hension. But my • father has two or three 
 staunch friends, who think that dike the king) 
 he can do no wrong, and 'faith that is as much 
 as any one can expect on this side the grave." 
 
 " You take rather a sad view of life for so 
 young a man," said Mrs. Digby; " I wonder 
 what it arises from. If our acquaintance were 
 less recent I should be tempted to ask, quite 
 generally, whether some little impediment to 
 the course of true love is not the most likely 
 way f to puddle a clear spirit V " 
 
 She smiled, without looking up, as she went 
 on filling her netting needle. 
 
 Leonard, relieved at not meeting her eye, 
 coloured deeply, but disclaimed the inference
 
 THE MEDICAL PRACTITIONER. 281 
 
 — he was not so happy, he said, as to have even 
 an unfortunate attachment. 
 
 " But do you know, I am rather sorry to 
 hear that," said Mrs. Digby, "I owe you 
 much obligation — and to your father still 
 more — and I pleased myself with the idea 
 that your happiness might be impeded by 
 obstacles of a nature that I could remove." 
 
 " Indeed, Madam," said Leonard, M your 
 kindness to me is such that I owe you a more 
 candid reply than the one I gave you, I was 
 so deeply attached to a young lady in this 
 neighbourhood, that I should have thought 
 any sacrifice or suffering on my part cheaply 
 encountered if it contributed in the least 
 degree to her happiness ; but I found that she 
 did not comprehend me at all, and I gave up 
 the idea, so nattering to one's vanity, of being 
 understood." 
 
 " And shall I intrude too much upon your 
 confidence if I ask you the name of this 
 young lady ?" said Mrs. Digby.
 
 282 MR. WARRENNE, 
 
 " It was Miss Reynolds," replied Leonard. 
 
 " I could have guessed it, from the charac- 
 ter she bears in the neighbourhood," said Mrs. 
 Digby, drawing together her slender brows. 
 " You have had a very fortunate escape. Had 
 you been richer, you might not have found out 
 till too late the heart she has now exposed to 
 you. I hope," she continued, with an earnest- 
 ness that rather surprised Leonard, "that if 
 your fortunes should hereafter change, you 
 will never be so mad as to seek her again !" 
 
 "My fortune or rather my want of it," 
 said Leonard smiling, " is so definate that I 
 shall not have the temptation, and it is gene- 
 rally understood that Miss Reynolds is now 
 engaged to an officer, who is at present with 
 his regiment." 
 
 " I rejoice to hear it," replied Mrs. Digby, 
 
 "for you must be very unlike the generality 
 
 of young men, Mr. Leonard, if you could 
 
 resist the overtures of a practised coquette." 
 
 *" I confess it madam," said Leonard, laugh-
 
 THE MEDICAL PRACTITIONER. 283 
 
 ing; "but she would as soon make overtures 
 to her footman, as to a man in my position. 
 In resigning all thoughts of her, therefore, I 
 do not put my philosophy to any severe trial." 
 
 " Well," said Mrs. Digby, after a pause, 
 "you have given me your confidence, Mr. 
 Leonard, and I am disposed in return, to give 
 you mine." 
 
 Leonard looked up with an expression of 
 interest. 
 
 " If I did not consider you a very singular 
 young man," said she with a smile, " I should 
 not imagine that the history of a woman fifty 
 years of age, even though your own father 
 played a conspicuous part in it, would interest 
 you for a single moment; I count on your 
 attention as a matter of course." 
 
 Leonard eagerly expressed a hope that she 
 would continue ; and very tranquilly, and work- 
 ing while she spoke, she went on with her nar- 
 rative. 
 
 " You may have heard — at least it was all
 
 284 MR. WARRENNE, 
 
 over the country before your time," pursued 
 Mrs. Digby, "that my father left me his 
 property under a condition so peculiar, that I 
 was strongly urged to endeavour to set it aside. 
 This, I could under no circumstances have been 
 induced to do. The idea of enjoying property 
 except on the exact terms of the testator, 
 would have been in my eyes a kind of sacri- 
 lege. This estate was bequeathed to me, pro- 
 vided I remained unmarried. If I married, it 
 was to go to some distant connexion, for rela- 
 tions I had none. I now comprehend his mo- 
 tives for this singular proviso : I was left with 
 somewhere about eight thousand a-year, Mr. 
 Leonard. My father had no great idea of the 
 happiness of the married state — no trust in 
 the disinterested conduct of men in general. 
 He believed, and I agree with him, that if I 
 loved any man -well enough to resign my for- 
 tune in his favour, that love would in itself be 
 a compensation and a reward ; — and that the 
 man who would take me penniless, would be
 
 THE MEDICAL PRACTITIONER. 285 
 
 more likely to render me happy, than one who 
 might be tempted by my wealth to offer me 
 his hand. I feel that in this arrangement he 
 provided for my peace of mind, with a judg- 
 ment far beyond what I myself possessed. For 
 I was of a disposition that more than com- 
 monly demanded an exclusive and profound 
 devotion, such as is not very usually accorded 
 by your sex." 
 
 Leonard here made a movement as if he 
 wished to justify all mankind — but he probably 
 thought better of it, and again composed him- 
 self to listen. 
 
 " When the contents of this will were made 
 known to me," pursued Mrs. Digby, "they 
 occasioned me not one moment's anxiety or re- 
 gret. I was blindly attached, and I believed 
 engaged to a gentleman a few years older than 
 myself, when I say I believed myself engaged, 
 I mean that afterwards, upon recall- 
 ing to mind every word that had passed 
 between us, I found reason to acquit him of
 
 286 MR. WARRENNE, 
 
 being actually bound to me. However, I took 
 for granted, as the whole neighbourhood did, — 
 that we were solemnly engaged. I did not 
 regret that T could not offer him, as I had once 
 hoped to do, the fortune I meant to resign. I 
 felt so much satisfaction in the idea of aban- 
 doning it for him, that I fancied he would feel 
 equal pleasure in the sacrifice. I looked upon 
 it as an earnest, which few people are so happy 
 as to be enabled to offer before marriage, of 
 the sincerity and depth of our love. I should 
 have thought it the wildest injustice had I sus- 
 pected that he would hesitate for a moment in 
 his implied engagement to me. I knew his 
 prospects would secure present comfort and 
 future wealth whenever he should marry ; and 
 I tranquilly awaited his arrival as soon as he 
 could with propriety present himself after my 
 affliction. 1 1 the meantime he set sail for 
 India, without a word to me of explanation or 
 farewell. I assure you Mr. Leonard, that 
 though I can now speak of it so calmly, it cost
 
 THE MEDICAL PRACTITIONER. 287 
 
 me then, more agony than I care to look back 
 upon." 
 
 " But this was not my father \" exclaimed 
 Leonard, shocked at the idea of such baseness, 
 and for the moment overlooking the fact that 
 Mr. Warrenne had never been to India. 
 
 "No; this was not the part that your 
 father played in my earlier history," said Mrs. 
 Digby, with a smile ; " names, in a narrative of 
 this kind, are but of secondary importance ; 
 yet when in your own confessions you touched 
 slightly upon the manner in which Miss Rey- 
 nolds had trifled with your feelings and mis- 
 interpreted your heart, I felt that it was not 
 given to the daughter, any more than to the 
 father, to comprehend the sacredness and the 
 wealth of a true and deep affection." 
 
 Leonard looked all astonishment— although 
 there was no reason why Mr. Reynolds should 
 not have been the person referred to — and Miss 
 Reynolds a worthy imitator of her father. 
 
 " It is natural, I suppose, for young people
 
 288 MR. WARRENNE. 
 
 to form their opinion of the world at large 
 from the little section that falls immediately 
 under their eye/' continued Mrs. Digby . " To 
 me this incident embittered my feelings, and 
 perverted my judgment. If he whom I had 
 invested with every perfection, whom I had 
 enthroned above the angels, and worshipped as 
 no mortal should be adored ; if he could, for 
 the loss of a little coin, perjure his inmost soul 
 and break his unspoken vows, what must be 
 the ordinary conduct of common men ? What 
 baseness, what pitiful treachery must direct 
 their daily thoughts and acts ? I shut myself 
 up from every human being in silent disgust. 
 I could hardly endure the needful presence of 
 my servants. I transacted business by letter 
 with the lawyer, who was on a visit at my house ; 
 and could only feel satisfaction at my wealth, 
 inasmuch as it enabled me to carry out my 
 plan of seclusion." 
 
 As Mrs. Digby spoke, for the first time 
 during her history, with some warmth and
 
 THE MEDICAL PRACTITIONER. 289 
 
 animation, the kindling of her cheek and eye 
 gave her back for the moment the bright and 
 spiritual beauty of her youth. 
 
 " I had been acquainted with Mr. Warrenne 
 during the lifetime of my father/' continued 
 Mrs. Digby j " and though my mind was too 
 much pre- occupied to speculate on the object of 
 his frequent visits, I had sometimes imagined 
 that I was not indifferent to him. It was, 
 I think, about six months after my father's 
 death that I received a letter from him, in 
 which he declared to me his long and devoted 
 attachment, and offered to me with much 
 respect and hesitation his hand. He had been 
 withheld from making such a declaration for a 
 length of time, under the idea that I was 
 engaged. The departure of Mr. Reynolds had 
 undeceived him in this respect. It did not 
 occur to him that I could be forsaken ; aud he 
 had eagerly awaited the close of the earliest 
 interval that could elapse after my father's 
 death, to lay before me his sentiments, and 
 
 VOL I. O
 
 290 MR. WARRENNE, 
 
 solicit their return. He knew that if I married 
 I shonld be penniless; and with a proud 
 humility that pleased me, he touched on his 
 ancient birth, his want of social position, his 
 limited income, and the wealth he urged me to 
 resign. He thought that to most women the 
 affections of home were worth any sacrifice, and 
 he knew that in my case I must purchase them 
 by the surrender of my estate. In fact, he 
 judged my heart as I had once hoped another 
 would have judged and valued it. I am a 
 bigot in behalf of the Old Blood, Mr. Leonard. 
 I believe good sort of people may be found in 
 every grade of life. I am not guilty of the 
 impiety of supposing that Heaven is solely 
 peopled with the descendants of the Normans 
 and the Vikinger ; but there is a high strain of 
 feeling which alone belongs to such lordly 
 descent. 
 
 "Every word of your father's letter 
 breathed this strain." 
 
 Leonard coloured high with pleasure and
 
 THE MEDICAL PRACTITIONER. 291 
 
 emotion at this tribute to his father. Mrs. 
 Digby went on : — 
 
 " It may have occurred to you to meet with 
 some trait of character, or perhaps only some 
 written sentiment, which so wonderfully 
 applied to the mood of your mind as to 
 exercise a permanent and beneficent influence 
 over your disposition. Such influence your 
 father's letter had upon my feelings. I was at 
 once lifted out of the weak despair which had 
 followed my disappointment. The darkness 
 around me seemed dispelled. There was yet 
 faith, and love, and true nobility upon the 
 earth. People may talk of the benefactors of 
 their race ; but those are the real benefactors 
 who minister health and stability to a single 
 human heart. It mattered nothing that I was 
 unable to return his attachment. It mattered 
 little that my peace and gladness of mind were 
 inevitably destroyed. My trust in my fellow- 
 creatures was gently restored; and I was 
 
 o 2
 
 292 MR. WARRENNE, 
 
 visited by repose as soon as my natural grief 
 was dispelled by time. 
 
 " It is singular," pursued Mrs. Digby, " that 
 my father who left me his estate upon such 
 strict conditions, left me totally unfettered in 
 my future disposal of it. Having no near 
 relations, my thoughts often reverted to Mr. 
 Warrenne as the worthiest person of my ac- 
 quaintance, to make my heir. But he was 
 some years older than myself, and the chances 
 were that I might be the survivor. Meantime, 
 after a lapse of years sufficient to content 
 a vainer woman than myself, he married : and 
 as time rolled on, I thought I would enquire 
 into the ^characters of his children, and select 
 from them the most amiable to be my suc- 
 cessor. But here I was baffled — they were all 
 amiable ; all endowed with the high principles 
 that their father had taken pains to inculcate. 
 And still time slipped away; and I might have 
 died intestate, if circumstances had not thrown 
 you in my way, and decided my choice at once."
 
 THE MEDICAL PRACTITIONER. 293 
 
 Leonard's astonishment almost took from 
 him the power of utterance ; he faltered some 
 thing about his entire nnworthiness to be so 
 distinguished. 
 
 " With regard to our meeting on that ter- 
 rible day," said Mrs. Digby, " although I 
 should have ever felt grateful to you for your 
 kindness, it would not alone have decided me 
 on the step I am now taking ; but you see that 
 my principal reasons refer to affairs which took 
 place before your birth, and for which you are 
 no way answerable : and let me tell you it is for 
 my own contentment that I appoint an heir 
 who has been brought up to my liking, and 
 who does no discredit to his bringing up. 
 
 "And now," she added, interrupting his 
 deep-felt expressions of gratitude, I must have 
 my own way in certain particulars. It does 
 not please me that my heir should derive his 
 only advantages from my death ; nor that he 
 should step from a limited sphere of employ- 
 ment to the management of a large estate. 1
 
 294 MR. WARRENNR, 
 
 wish, therefore, that Mr. Warrenne should 
 withdraw you from your present occupation, 
 and send you to travel for two or three years. 
 I should be glad that you spent some time in 
 Italy and improved your taste in poetry and 
 art. I have a horror of country squires. ! And 
 now Mr. Leonard as I am not quite strong yet, 
 I shall turn you out for to-day " 
 
 Leonard rode home bewildered by the 
 change in his prospects, nor could he really 
 believe his good fortune, until his father came 
 from Mrs. Digby's, deeply penetrated with her 
 generosity; and informedhim that she had taken 
 legal measures to secure him her property, and 
 had insisted on making him an allowance 
 during her life, which would enable him with 
 ease to carry out his plans of travelling when 
 and where he pleased. She wished that her 
 intentions with respect to Leonard should not 
 be mentioned beyond his own family — not 
 caring to have her affairs canvassed all over the 
 county sooner than could be helped, and she
 
 THE MEDICAL PRACTITIONER. 295 
 
 suggested that Leonard should make his health 
 the plea for withdrawing from Mr. Tho ma- 
 son's, and going to the south of Europe. 
 
 Of course, the consequence was that his 
 daily visits to Forrel Court were set down to a 
 sudden fancy on the part of Mrs. Digby to 
 bestow her hand upon Leonard. The young 
 man was pronounced a knave and a hypocrite, 
 and the old lady a very improper sort of 
 woman. 
 
 END OF VOL I. 
 
 OSJELI., PRINTER, HART STREET. BLOOMS BURT.
 
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