Doctor Trubie glanced back at the letter, and his eyes lit with a strange, stern joy. "At last!" he muttered through his set teeth. Mrs. Arling leaned forward, and her face grew pale. "What is it, doctor?" she asked, trembling. "What is the matter?" Doctor Trubie glanced at her excited face, and saw what mischief he was doing. "Nothing," he hastened to answer, "nothing, only an old sore pressed on suddenly. This handwriting reminds me of one that--I never expected to see again." He gave the letter a long, moody look, then refolded it, and handed it back to Bergan. Mrs. Arling looked anxiously at her son. "Does Doctor Remy give you any special news?" she asked. "Not much. Uncle Godfrey is better, and the fever is over. Business is still dull." "Then you will not need to hurry back?" Bergan knelt by his mother's side. "My dear mother," he whispered, "you know it is not for the sake of my business that I am anxious to return, as soon as I may. I must see Carice, and satisfy myself that nothing is amiss." Mrs. Arling smiled, yet she sighed, too. "Ah, yes, I remember," said she, "and you are quite right." Doctor Trubie rose, and came to the other side of Mrs. Arling's chair. "I am glad to see that I am not wanted here any longer," he began, pleasantly;-- "But you are wanted," interrupted Mrs. Arling; "you are always wanted, as a friend." "Thank you; but I am wanted elsewhere as a physician; so I must take my leave, for the present." He shook hands with Mrs. Arling, and gave Bergan a meaning glance, as he did so. The young man rose. "I will walk a little way with you, if you like," said he. "I have a boyish delight in the first snow, and I did not see any last winter, you remember." The two gentlemen were hardly outside the gate, before Doctor Trubie asked;--"What do you know of this Doctor Remy's antecedents?" Bergan narrated the facts which he had gathered, from time to time, from Doctor Remy's conversation. "So, he would have us believe," said Doctor Trubie, contemptuously, "that he transformed himself from a poor lawyer into a scientific physician, in a year and a half, by the help of a friendly doctor, and a course of lectures! There is falsehood on the face of it." "He had a genius for the study," replied Bergan. "Aye, I'll warrant! that is the saving grain of truth in the whole story. Do you remember the circumstances of your elder brother's death?" "Not very distinctly. I was so young, at the time; and then, you know, mother could never bear to hear any allusion to them." "You know that he was murdered?" Bergan looked surprised. "I know there was talk of suicide," said he, "but I thought it was decided that he was poisoned by mistake."