Dr. Blenkinsop was in rather a bad humour this afternoon, a fact that was often patent enough to his patients, whom he was given to treat on such occasions with some _brusquerie_; but with all his oddities and contradictions, they dearly loved him. 'I can't make him out at all,' he repeated, irritably, feeling his iron-gray whiskers, a trick of his when anything discomposed him; 'there is no fault to find with his constitution; he has had a sharp bout of illness, brought on, as far as I can make out, by his own imprudence, and just as he has turned the corner nicely, and seems doing us all credit, he declines to make any further progress!' 'But he is really better, Dr. Blenkinsop; he coughs far less, and his sleep is less broken; he has no appetite, certainly, but----' Mildred stopped. She thought herself that Roy had been losing ground lately. Dr. Blenkinsop fairly growled,--he had little sharp white teeth that showed almost savagely when he was in one of his surly moods. 'These lymphatic natures are the worst to combat, they succumb so readily to weakness and depression; he certainly seems more languid to-day, and there are feverish indications. He has got nothing on his mind, eh?'--turning round so abruptly that Mildred was put out of countenance. She hesitated. 'Humph!' was his next observation, 'I thought as much. Of course it is none of my concern, but when I see my patient losing ground without any visible cause, one begins to ask questions. That young lady who assists in the nursing--do you think her presence advisable, eh?'--with another sharp glance at Mildred. 'She is his adopted sister--she is engaged,' stammered Mildred, not willing to betray the lad's secret. 'They are very fond of each other.' 'A questionable sort of fondness--rather too feverish on one side, I should say. Send her back to the north, and get that nice fellow Richard in her place; that is my advice.' And acting on this very broad hint, Mildred soon afterwards wrote to Dr. Heriot to recall Polly. When Dr. Blenkinsop had left her, she did not at once return to the studio; through the closed door she could hear Polly striking soft chords on the piano. Roy had seemed drowsy, and she trusted the girl's murmuring voice would lull him to sleep. It was not often that she left them together; but this afternoon her longing for a little fresh air tempted her to undertake some errands that were needed for the invalid; and leaving a message with Mrs. Madison that she would be back to the early tea, she set off in the direction of the old town. It was getting rapidly dusk as the little gate swung behind Mildred. When Roy roused from his fitful slumber, he could hardly see Polly as she sat at the shabby, square piano. The girl was touching the notes with listless fingers, her head drooping over the keys; but she suddenly started when she saw the tall gaunt figure beside her in the gorgeous dressing-gown.