"Pierce, dear, where are you?" cried a pleasant voice, and a piquant little figure appeared at the door. "Oh, there you are. Shall I want a hat? Oh, no, it's quite mild." The owner of the voice hurried out like a beam of sunshine on the dull grey morning, and taking the Doctor's arm tried to keep step with him, after glancing up in his stern face, her own looking merry and arch with its dimples. "What is it, Jenny?" he said. "What is it, sir? Why, I want fresh air as well as you; but don't stride along like that. How can I keep step? You have such long legs." "That's better," he said, trying to accommodate himself to the little body at his side. "Rather. So you have had a patient," she said. "Yes, I've had a patient, Sis," he replied, looking down at her; and a faint colour dawned in her creamy cheeks. "And you always grumbling, sir! There, I do believe that is the beginning of a change. Who was the patient?" The Doctor's hand twitched, and he frowned, but he said, calmly enough, "That young cub from the Manor." "Mr Claud Wilton?" said the girl innocently; "Oh, I am glad. Beginning with the rich people at the Manor. Now everyone will come." "No, my dear; everyone will not come, and the sooner we pack up and go back to town the better." "What, sell the practice?" "Sell the practice," he cried contemptuously. "Sell the furniture, Sis. One man--fool, I mean--was enough to be swindled over this affair. Practice! The miserable scoundrel! Much good may the money he defrauded me of do him. No, but we shall have to go." "Don't, Pierce," said the girl, looking up at him wistfully. "Why?" he said angrily. "Because it did do me good being down here, and I like the place so much." "Any place would be better than that miserable hole at Westminster, where you were getting paler every day, but I ought to have been more businesslike. It has not done you good though; and if you like the place the more reason why we should go," he cried angrily. "Oh, Pierce, dear, what a bear you are this morning. Do be patient, and I know the patients will come." "Bah! Not a soul called upon us since we've been here, except the tradespeople, so that they might get our custom." "But we've only been here six months, dear." "It will be the same when we've been here six years, and I'm wasting time. I shall get away as soon as I can. Start the New Year afresh in town." "Pierce, oh don't walk so fast. How can I keep up with you?" "I beg your pardon." "That's better. But, Pierce, dear," she said, with an arch look; "don't talk like that. You wouldn't have the heart to go." "Indeed! But I will." "I know better, dear." "What do you mean?" "You couldn't go away now. Oh, Pierce, dear, she is sweet! I could love her so. There is something so beautiful and pathetic in her face as she sits there in church. Many a time I've felt the tears come into my eyes, and as if I could go across the little aisle and kiss her and call her sister."