"Bad enough," exclaimed Ned, with a sudden flash of ferocity; "ay, bad enough in all conscience, and the worst of it is, that it makes me ready to jest about _anything_--in heaven, earth, or hell. Oh, drink! accursed drink!" He started up and clutched the hair of his head with both hands for a moment; but the feeling passed away, and he sat down again and resumed breakfast, while he said in a graver tone than he had yet used-- "Excuse me, doctor; I'm subject to these bursts now and then. Well, what say you about the body? My friend offers me twenty pounds, if I get the right kind. That would be seventeen pounds of profit on the transaction. It's worth an effort. It might put me in the way of making one more stand." Ned said this sadly, for he had made so many stands in time past, and failed to retain his position, that hope was at dead low-water of a very neap-tide now. "I don't like the look of the thing," said the doctor. "There's too much secrecy about it for me. Why don't your friend speak out like a man; state what he wants it for, and get it in the regular way?" "It mayn't be a secret, for all I know," said Ned Hooper, as he concluded his repast. "I did not take the trouble to ask him; because I didn't care. You might help me in this, doctor." "Well, I'll put you in the way of getting what you want," said the doctor, after a few moments reflection; "but you must manage it yourself. I'll not act personally in such an affair; and let me advise you to make sure that you are not getting into a scrape before you take any steps in the matter. Meanwhile, I must wish you good-day. Call here again to-night, at six." The doctor rose as he spoke, and accompanied Ned to the door. He left a coin of some sort in his palm, when he shook hands. "Thankee," said Ned. "If you had come to beg, you should not have got it," said the doctor. "God help him!" he added as he shut the door; "it is an awful sight to see an old companion fall so low." CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN. AN OLD PLOT. It is evening now. The snow is still on the ground; but it looks ruddy and warm in the streets, because of the blaze of light from the shop-windows, and it looks colder than it did on the house-tops, by reason of the moon which sails in the wintry sky. The man in the moon must have been in good spirits that night, for his residence seemed almost fuller than the usual full moon, and decidedly brighter--to many, at least, of the inhabitants of London. It looked particularly bright to Miss Tippet, as she gazed at it through the windows of her upper rooms, and awaited the arrival of "a few friends" to tea. Miss Tippet's heart was animated with feelings of love to God and man; and she had that day, in obedience to the Divine precept, attempted and accomplished a good many little things, all of which were, either directly or indirectly, calculated to make human beings happy.