"I say, Uncle Hugh, that you cannot believe in such nonsense. You admitted that the incidents you gave just now were mere coincidences." "Frank," returned the doctor, in his quiet tone, that latterly had seemed to tell of pain, "I have already said so. But when you shall have lived to my age, experience will have taught you that there are some things in this world that cannot be fathomed or explained. We must be content to leave them. I told you that I did not myself place faith in this popular belief of the miners: but I related to you at the same time my own experiences in regard to it. I don't judge: but I cannot explain." Frank turned a laughing look on his cousin. "Suppose we go out on the Bare Plain to-night and listen for the Seven Whistlers ourselves; you and I, Edina?" "A watched pot never boils," said Edina, quaintly, quoting a homely proverb. "The Whistlers would be sure not to come, Frank, if we listened for them." CHAPTER II. ROSALINE BELL. Frank Raynor had been a qualified medical man for some few years; he was skilful, kind, attentive, and possessed in an eminent degree that cheering manner which is so valuable in a general practitioner. Consequently he was much liked by the doctor's patients, especially by those of the better class, living at a distance; so that Dr. Raynor had no scruple in frequently making Frank his substitute in the daily visits. Frank alone suspected--and it was only a half-suspicion as yet--that his uncle was beginning to feel himself unequal to the exertion of paying them. It was getting towards midday, and Frank had seen all the sick near home at present on their hands, when he started on his walk to see one or two living further away. But he called in at home first of all, to give Dr. Raynor a report of his visits, and to change his grey coat for a black one. Every inch a gentleman looked Frank, as he left the house again, turned to the right, and went down the street with long strides. He was followed by the envious eyes of Mr. Blase Pellet: who, in the very midst of weighing out some pounded ginger for a customer, darted round the counter to watch him. "He is off _there_, for a guinea!" growled Mr. Pellet, as he lost sight of Frank and turned back to his ginger. "What possesses Mother Bell, I wonder, to go and fancy herself ill and in want of a doctor!"