"You have set me thinking," said the doctor at last; "and what you said is like a ray of sunshine in my trouble."

"He's always saying things that are like rays of sunshine to us in our trouble, Joseph," said Mrs Luttrell, looking up through her tears at the earnest countenance at her side.

"Bayle, I shall have to lose the old place--the wife's old home, of which she is so proud--and my old garden. It's a bitter blow at my time of life, but it must come."

"I was afraid there was something very wrong," said Bayle; "but suppose we look the difficulties in the face. I'm a bit of a lawyer, you know, my dear doctor. Let's see what can be done. I want to be delicate in my offer, but I must be blunt. I am not a poor man, my wants are very simple, and I spend so little--let me clear this difficulty away.

There, we will not bother Mrs Luttrell about money matters. Consider it settled."

"No," said the doctor firmly, "that will not do. I appreciate it all, my dear boy, truly; but there is only one way out of this difficulty-- the old place must be sold."

"Oh, Joseph, Joseph!" sighed Mrs Luttrell, and the tears fell fast.

"It must be, wife," said the doctor firmly. "Bayle, after what you said, will you buy the old home? I could bear it better if it fell into your hands."

"Are you sure it must be sold?"

"There is no other way out of the difficulty, Bayle. Will you buy it?"

"If you tell me that there is certainly no other way out of the difficulty, and that it is your wish and Mrs Luttrell's, I will buy the place."

"Just as it stands--furniture--everything?"

"Just as it stands--furniture--everything."

"Ah!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed the doctor with a sigh of relief. "Thank G.o.d, Bayle!"

he cried, shaking the curate's hand energetically. "I have not felt so much at rest for months. Now I want, you to tell me a little about the town--about the people. What do they say?"

"Say?"

"Yes: say about us--about Hallam--about Millicent, about our darling?"

"My dear doctor, I shall have to go and fetch old Gemp. He will point at game, and tell you more in half-an-hour than I shall be able to tell you in a year. Had we not better change the conversation?--here is Mrs Hallam with Julia."

As he spoke the garden gate clicked, and Millicent came into sight, with her child, the one grave and sad, the other all bright-eyed eagerness and excitement.

"There they are, mamma--in the yew seat!" And the child raced across the lawn, bounded over a flowerbed, and leaped upon the doctor's knee.

"Dear old grandpa!" she cried, throwing her arms round his neck and kissing him effusively, but only to leap down and climb on Mrs Luttrell's lap, clasping her neck, and laying her charming little face against the old lady's cheek. "Dear, sweet old grandma!" she cried.

Then, in all the excitement of her young life, she was down again to seize Bayle's hand.

"Come and get some fruit and flowers. We may, mayn't we, grandpa?"

"I'm sure we may," said Bayle, laughing, "only I must go."

"Oh!" cried the child pouting, "don't go, Mr Bayle! I do like being in the garden with you so very, very much!"

Mrs Hallam turned her sweet, grave face to him.

"Can you give her a few minutes? Julie will be so disappointed."

"There," cried Bayle merrily, "you see, doctor, what a little tyrant she grows! She makes every one her slave!"

"I don't!" said the child, pouting. "Mamma always says a run in the garden does me so much good, and it will do Mr Bayle good too. Thibs says he works too hard."

"Come along, then," he cried laughing; and the man seemed transformed, running off with the child to get a basket, while Millicent gazed after them, her countenance looking brighter, and the old people seemed to have forgotten their troubles, as they gazed smilingly after the pair.

"Bless her!" said Mrs Luttrell, swaying herself softly to and fro, and pa.s.sing her hands along her knees.

"Yes, that's the way, Milly. Give her plenty of fresh air, and laugh at me and my tribe."

Then quite an eager conversation ensued, Mrs Hallam brightening up; and on both sides every allusion to trouble was, by a pious kind of deception, kept out of sight, Millicent Hallam being in the fond belief that her parents did not even suspect that she was not thoroughly happy, while they were right in thinking that their child was ignorant of the straits to which they had been brought.

"Why, we are quite gay this morning!" cried Mrs Luttrell; "or, no: perhaps he comes as a patient, he looks so serious. Ah, Sir Gordon, it is quite an age since you were here?"

"Yes, madam; I'm growing old and gouty, and--your servant, Mrs Hallam,"

he said, raising his hat. "Doctor, I wish I had your health. Ah, how peaceful and pleasant this garden looks! They told me--old Gemp told me--that I should find Bayle here. I called at his lodgings--bless my soul! how can a man with his income live in such a simple way! The woman said he was out visiting, and that old scoundrel said he was here.

Egad! I believe the fellow lies in wait to hear everything. Eh? Ah, I'm right, I see!"

Just then there was a silvery burst of childish laughter, followed by a deep voice shouting, "Stop thief! stop thief!" Then there was a scampering of feet, and Julia came racing along, with her dark curls flying, and Christie Bayle in full pursuit, right up to the group by the yew hedge.

"She ran off with the basket!" cried Bayle. "Did you ever see--Ah, Sir Gordon!" he cried, holding out a currant-stained hand.

"Humph!" cried Sir Gordon grimly, raising his gla.s.s to his eye, and looking at the big, brown, fruit-stained fingers; "mighty clerical, 'pon my honour, sir! Who do you think is coming to listen to a parson on Sundays who spends his weeks racing about gardens after little girls?

No, I'm not going to spoil my gloves; they're new."

"I--I don't think you ought to speak to--to Mr Bayle like that, Sir Gordon!" cried Mrs Luttrell, flushing and ruffling up like a hen. "If you only knew him as we do--"

"Oh, hush, mamma dear!" said Mrs Hallam, smiling tenderly, and laying her hand upon her mother's arm.

"Yes, my dear; but I cannot sit still and--"

"Know him, ma'am!" said Sir Gordon sharply. "Oh, I know him by heart; read him through and through! He was never meant for a parson; he's too rough!"

"Really, Sir Gordon, I--"

"Don't defend me, Mrs Luttrell," said Bayle merrily. "Sir Gordon doesn't like me, and he makes this excuse for not coming to hear me preach."

"Well, little dark eyes!" cried Sir Gordon, taking Julia's hand, and leading her to the seat. "Ah, that's better! I do get tired so soon, doctor. Well, little dark eyes!" he continued, after seating himself, and drawing the child between his knees, after which he drew a clean, highly-scented, cambric handkerchief from his breast pocket, and leaned forward. "Open your mouth, little one," he said.

Julia obeyed, parting her scarlet lips.

"Now put out your tongue."

"Is grandpa teaching you to be a doctor?" said the child innocently.

"No; but I wish he would, my dear," said Sir Gordon, "so that I could doctor one patient--myself. Out with your tongue."