“I have not my glass,” said he, hurriedly, while his fingers held it; “but of course it is all right. You will instruct me as to the fee--you will do whatever is necessary, and you will also, I trust, remain here. I wish you not to leave the Castle.” “Impossible, Sir Within. Sir Godfrey Wynne is very ill, and I have a very anxious case at Glassnwyd.” “But none of them, I will venture to say, so needful of watching as this. You have just told me how precarious these cases are. Remember, Sir, I have some claims upon you.” “The very greatest, Sir Within. But for your munificent donation, I should never have been physician to the Wrexham Hospital.” “I did not mean that,” said Sir Within, flushing scarlet; “I did not allude to that. I spoke of old family claims in your father’s time. Dalradem was always his staunch supporter.” “I know it well, Sir; but a doctor owes allegiance to the very humblest of those who need him.” “A doctor, I presume, is bound to accord the patient whatever of his time he can pay for?” “Not to the detriment of others who are ill, Sir Within.” “I know of no other than those under this roof, Doctor Price. I insist, therefore, that you remain here.” “I will return before evening, Sir Within.” “If you leave this now, Sir, you need not return.” “Let me entreat you to moderate your warmth, and hear me.” “Sir, I accept no lessons on the mode in which I should comport myself. My education is not, I would hope, yet to be made in this respect. You stay now, or you never re-cross this threshold.” “Then I most respectfully take my leave, Sir.” As he moved towards the door, Sir Within placed himself against it. “This is conduct, Sir,” cried he, passionately, “for which I was in no way prepared. It is the first time in my life I have been a physician refuse his services to those who had the right to call for, and the ability to requite them. I will not suffer it.” The Doctor moved his head mournfully, and muttered a few low and indistinct words. “No, Sir, I want no apologies. I will not listen to excuses!” cried Sir Within, whose cheek was in a flame, and his eye flashing with anger. “I have done my best--my very best--to misunderstand your ‘meaning; I have tried my utmost to persuade myself that this was no intentional slight; but, apparently, Sir, you insist that I should know it, and feel it.” “You distress me greatly, Sir Within--and all the more, that I really cannot follow you in what you imply.”