"Neither would my wife like it. Well, there's no hurry; it is a good offer, and you can consider it. And, look here, Raynor: if you would like a day or two's holiday now, take it: you have been hard at work long enough. I will come down and attend for you. I should like to see my old patients again: though some of them were queer kind of people." "Thank you," said Frank mechanically. Thought after thought was passing through his mind. No, he would not stay here. He had no further motive for seeking obscurity, thank Heaven, and Daisy should be removed to a more congenial atmosphere. But--what could he do for means? He must be only an assistant yet, he supposed; but better luck might come in course of time. And better luck, though Frank knew it not, was on his way to him even then. What with one thing and another, that day seemed destined to be somewhat of an eventful day to Frank Raynor. In the evening a letter was delivered to him from Mr. George Atkinson, requesting him to go down to Eagles' Nest on the morrow, as he wished particularly to see him. "What can he want with me?--unless he is about to appoint me Surgeon-in-Ordinary to his high and mighty self!" quoth Frank, lightly. "But I should like to go. I should like to see the old place again. _Can_ I go? Daisy is better. Max Brown has offered me a day or two's rest. Yes, I can. And drop Max a note now to say his patients will be waiting for him to-morrow morning." CHAPTER X. MADEMOISELLE'S LETTER. "A parcel for you, sir." "A parcel for me!" repeated Mr. Atkinson to his servant, some slight surprise in his tone. For he was not in the habit of receiving parcels, and wondered what was being sent to him. The parcel was done up rather clumsily in brown paper, and appeared, by the label on it, to have come by fast train from Hereford. Mr. George Atkinson looked at the address with curiosity. It did not bear his name, but was simply directed to "The Resident of Eagles' Nest. "Undo it, Thomas," said he. Thomas took off the string and unfolded the brown paper. This disclosed a second envelope of white paper: and a sealed note, similarly superscribed, lying on it. Mr. Atkinson took the note in his hand: but Thomas was quick, and in a minute the long-lost ebony desk stood revealed to view, its key attached to it. "Oh," said Mr. Atkinson. "What does the letter say?" The letter proved to be from Mademoiselle Delrue, the former governess at Eagles' Nest. In a long and rather complicated explanation, written partly in French, partly in English, the following facts came to light.