“Then you will not go without me. You will get the better of Mr. Vizard, because he is only a man; but I am a woman, and have a will as well as you. If you make a journey to-morrow, I go with you. Deny me, and you shan't go at all.” Her eyes flashed defiance. Ina moved one step, took Rhoda's little defiant head, and kissed her cheek. “Sweet physician and kind friend, of course you shall go with me, if you will, and be a great blessing to me.” This reconciled Miss Gale to the proceedings. She packed up a carpet-bag, and was up early, making provisions of every sort for her patient's journey: air pillows, soft warm coverings, medicaments, stimulants, etc., in a little bag slung across her shoulders. Thus furnished, and equipped in a uniform suit of gray cloth and wideawake hat, she cut a very sprightly and commanding figure, but more like Diana than Hebe. The Klosking came down, a pale Juno, in traveling costume; and a quarter of an hour before the time a pair-horse fly was at the door and Mr. Ashmead in the hall. The ladies were both ready. But Vizard had not appeared. This caused an uneasy discussion. “He must be very angry,” said Fanny, in a half whisper. “I cannot go while he is,” sighed La Klosking. “There is a limit even to my courage.” “Mr. Harris,” said Rhoda, “would you mind telling Mr. Vizard?” “Well, miss,” said Harris, softly, “I did step in and tell him. Which he told me to go to the devil, miss--a hobservation I never knew him to make before.” This was not encouraging. Yet the Klosking quietly inquired where he was. “In there, ma'am,” said Harris. “In his study.” Mademoiselle Klosking, placed between two alternatives, decided with her usual resolution. She walked immediately to the door and tapped at it; then, scarcely waiting for an instant, opened it and walked in with seeming firmness, though her heart was beating rather high. The people outside looked at one another. “I wonder whether he will tell _her_ to go to the devil,” said Fanny, who was getting tired of being good. “No use,” said Miss Gale; “she doesn't know the road.” When La Klosking entered the study, Vizard was seated, disconsolate, with two pictures before him. His face was full of pain, and La Klosking's heart smote her. She moved toward him, hanging her head, and said, with inimitable sweetness and tenderness, “Here is a culprit come to try and appease you.” There came a time that he could hardly think of these words and her penitent, submissive manner with dry eyes. But just then his black dog had bitten him, and he said, sullenly, “Oh, never mind me. It was always so. Your sex have always made me smart for--If flying from my house before you are half recovered gives you half the pleasure it gives me pain and mortification, say no more about it.” “Ah! why say it gives me pleasure? my friend, you cannot really think so.” “I don't know what to think. You ladies are all riddles.”