‘You will find your spare cash better bestowed upon your own requirements than on Egyptian mummies,’ said Lucius, with a disparaging glance at the defunct Pharaoh. Mr. Sivewright promised to be guided by his counsel, and civilly dismissed him. ‘Come to me as often as you like,’ he said, ‘since you come as a friend; and let it be in the evening if that is pleasantest to you. I suppose there will be no necessity for any more serious examinations like this morning’s,’ with a faint smile, and a disagreeable recollection of the stethoscope, which instrument seemed to him as much an emblem of death as the skull and crossbones on an old tombstone. Lucius and Lucille went down-stairs together, and he lingered a little in the oak-panelled parlour, from which all tokens of her housewifery cares had now vanished. A bunch of violets and snowdrops in a tall Venetian beaker stood in the centre of the table; a few books, an open workbasket, indicated the damsel’s morning occupation. She had taken off her linen apron, but not the cap, which gave the faintest spice of coquetry to her appearance, and which Lucius thought the prettiest headgear he had ever seen. They talked a little of the old man up-stairs; but the surgeon was careful not to alarm Mr. Sivewright’s granddaughter. Alas, poor child, coldly and grudgingly as he acknowledged her claim upon him, he was her only guardian, the sole barrier between her and the still colder world outside her gloomy home. ‘You do not think him _very_ ill?’ she asked anxiously. ‘I do not think there is any reason for you to be anxious. Careful I am sure you will be; and care may do much to prolong his life. He has used himself hardly.’ ‘Yes,’ she answered in a mournful tone. ‘He has had troubles, heavy troubles, and he broods upon them.’ ‘Change of air and scene might be advantageous. There is an oppressive atmosphere in such a house as this, in such a quarter of the town.’ ‘I have sometimes found it so.’ ‘When the spring comes, say about the middle of April, I should strongly recommend a change for you both. To Hastings, for instance.’ The girl shook her head despondently. ‘He would never consent to spend so much money,’ she said. ‘We are very poor.’ ‘Yet Mr. Sivewright can find money for his purchases.’ ‘They cost so little; a few shillings at a time. The things he buys are bargains, which he discovers in strange out-of-the-way places.’ ‘Is he often out of doors?’ ‘Yes, and for long hours together. But lately he has been more fatigued after those long rambles than he used to be.’ ‘He must abandon them altogether. And you have spent some years alone in this old house?’ ‘Yes. I am accustomed to solitude. It is rather dull sometimes. But I have my books, and the house to take care of, for old Mrs. Wincher does only the rougher part of the work, and some pleasant memories of the past to amuse me when I sit and think.’ ‘Is your past a very bright one?’