Dr. Spenlove groped in the dark for the matches, and, lighting a candle, applied a match to a fire laid with scrupulous economy in the matter of coals. As he was thus employed his landlady knocked at the door and entered. "Is it you, Mrs. Radcliffe?" he asked, not turning his head. "Yes, sir. Let me do that, please." The paper he had lit in the grate was smoldering away without kindling the wood; the landlady knelt down, and with a skillful touch the flame leaped up. Dr. Spenlove, unbuttoning his thin coat, spread out his hands to the warmth. "Any callers, Mrs. Radcliffe?" "A gentleman, sir, who seemed very anxious to see you. He did not leave his name or card, but said he would call again this evening." "Did he mention the hour?" "Nine, sir." Dr. Spenlove put his hand to his waistcoat pocket, and quickly withdrew it, with a smile of humor and self-pity. The landlady noticed the action, and dolefully shook her head. "Very anxious to see me, you say, Mrs. Radcliffe?" "Very anxious, indeed, sir. Dear, dear, you're wet through!" "It is a bitter night," he said, coughing. "You may well say that, sir. Bad weather for you to be out, with that nasty cough of yours." "There are many people worse off than I am, without either fire or food." "We all have our trials, sir. It's a hard world." "Indeed, indeed," he said, thinking of the female patient whom he had last visited. "Where's your overcoat, sir? I'll take it down to the kitchen; it'll dry sooner there." She looked around in vain for it. "Never mind my overcoat, Mrs. Radcliffe." "But you had it on when you went out, sir!" "Did I? Don't trouble about it. It will dry quickly enough where it is." He was now busily employed making a parcel of books and instruments which he had taken from different parts of the room, and which were the only articles of value belonging to himself it contained. The landlady stood for a moment or two watching his movements, and then she hurried down to her kitchen, and presently returned with a cup of hot tea. As she passed through the passage with the cup in one hand and a candle in the other she glanced at the empty umbrella stand. "His umbrella, too, as well as his overcoat," she muttered. "The man's heart's too big for his body." She re-entered the room. "I've brought you a cup of tea, sir, if you don't mind taking it." "Not at all, Mrs. Radcliffe. It is very kind of you." He drank the tea, which warmed him through and through. "We're all sorry at your leaving us, sir," said the lady. "There's plenty that'll miss you." "I am sorry, too," he replied, "but when needs must, you know. I can do no good to myself or others by remaining. If the gentleman calls again ask him to wait if his business is of importance. You had better tell him I am leaving Portsmouth to-morrow morning."