But Harry, by his side, spoke of his projects, and Cuthbert seemed to listen, and gave answers not so far astray, though Cuthbert’s thoughts were little employed about Harry’s improvements, and it cost him an effort to keep up his attention. They parted very cordially, however, and Harry urged upon his friend repeated invitations to return, which Cuthbert was fain to evade. He remembered Rose’s parting glance, and could not prevail upon himself to resign the chance of going back; but again he thought of the previous day, the previous night, and sighed to himself heavily as he turned his face towards home. He thought he had looked his last upon Rose. When Harry left Cuthbert, he went to his bankers and drew a very considerable sum from his “capital;” but Harry felt he had been very economical lately, and could afford a little indulgence now; so he ordered some pretty bits of jewellery which he had fancied Agnes wanted last night, and called on Gilbert Allenders and some other choice spirits, and dined with them at the principal inn, and spent the evening merrily; nor was it until John had made repeated representations of the darkness of the night, and the necessity for getting home, that Harry suffered himself to be persuaded, and bade a reluctant good-night to his friends. Charteris was bending over a mass of papers, schooling the heart which still throbbed so loudly, and wearying himself out with indifferent business, that his disappointment might not sit too near the source of his strength, when Harry, wearied by quite a different process, drove past the dark and silent houses at Maidlin Cross. The labourers there were lying down to the untroubled slumber purchased by a toilsome day; and the children were asleep in Allenders, and Martha was standing by the window of her own room, looking out into a darkness so profound, that it made her blind, and feeling a darkness profounder still within the heart, which she coerced into absolute silence; when, drowsy and wearied out, dazzled with the lights, and annoyed by the quietness, Harry came home. CHAPTER II. He will hang upon him like a disease. MUCH ADO ABOUT NOTHING. “I’VE a great mind to practice out here, Harry,” said Gilbert Allenders; “lots of scarlet-fever, and measles, and hooping-cough, to start a man. And I want to be decent and respectable, and get out of temptation. If you were in an interesting position, like me, I’d get you a couple of rooms at Allender Mains, and invite you to dinner every day, till you were set up. Interesting children of Maidlin, you don’t know how much you want a doctor!” “And would you actually come out here in winter, Gilbert?” said Harry. “You don’t know how dull it is sometimes.”