Doctor Urquhart stayed out his half-hour punctually, and over the luncheon-table there was plenty of general conversation. He also took an opportunity to put to me, in my character of nurse, various questions about papa's health, and desired me, still in the same general half-medical tone, to be careful of my own, as Treherne Court was a much colder place than Rockmount, and we were likely to have a severe winter. I said it would not much signify, as we did not purpose remaining more than a week longer; to which he merely answered, “Oh, indeed!” We had no more conversation, except that on taking leave, having resisted all the Trehernes' entreaties to remain, he wished me “a happy New Year.” “I may not see you again for some time to come; if not, good-bye; good-bye!” Twice over, good-bye; and that was all. A happy New Year. So now, the Christmas time is over and gone; and to-morrow, January 2nd, 1857, will be like all other days in all other years. If I ever thought or expected otherwise, I was mistaken. One thing made me feel deeply and solemnly glad of Doctor Urquhart's visit to-day. It was, that if ever Francis, or any one else, was inclined to give a moment's credence to that atrocious lie, his whole appearance and demeanour were, its instantaneous contradiction. Whether Colin had told him anything, I could not discover; he looked grave, and somewhat anxious, but his manner was composed and at ease--the air of a man whose life, if not above sorrow, was wholly above suspicion; whose heart was steadfast and whose conscience free. “A thoroughly good man, if ever there was one,” said papa, emphatically, when he had gone away. “Yes,” Augustus answered, looking at Francis and then at me. “As honest and upright a man as God ever made.” Therefore, no matter--even if I was mistaken. CHAPTER VII. HIS STORY. |I continue these letters, having hitherto been made aware of no reason why they should cease. If that reason comes, they shall cease at once, and for ever; and these now existing be burnt immediately, by my own hand, as I did those of my sick friend in the Crimea. Be satisfied of that. You will learn to-morrow morning, what, had an opportunity offered, I meant to have told you on New Year's Day--my appointment as surgeon to the gaol, where I shall shortly enter upon my duties. The other portion of them, my private practice in the neighbourhood, I mean to commence as soon as ever I can, afterwards. Thus, you see my “Ishmaelitish wanderings” as you once called them, are ended. I have a fixed position in one place. I begin to look on this broad river with an eye of interest, and am teaching myself to grow familiar with its miles of docks, forests of shipping, and its two busy, ever-growing towns along either shore, even as one accustoms one's self to the natural features of the place, wherever it be, that we call “home.”