mystery, for he could not help being vividly interested. “It is absurd,” he said to himself; “but I cannot get that young lady who lectured me out of my thoughts. Surely I am not going to fall in love. That is the last thing I ought to do. But I must see her again, somehow.” CHAPTER XIII. THE COURSE OF TRUE LOVE. Even in small towns events follow each other so rapidly that one subject of gossip soon pushes another into the background, and in Scourby Mary Wythburn would have been forgotten, except by a few of her own personal friends, but for the fact that her name had been coupled with that of Dr. Stapleton in a suspicious report which did him great damage in the opinion of his fellow-townsmen. The doctor was a young medical man who was rapidly making his way in the town, and had many friends. He was especially good to the poor, and for several years attended them free of charge at their own homes, and he also held at his house a medical mission. Twice a week his consulting-room was almost like a small “Pool of Bethesda,” for the number of halt and maimed who came to it for advice and medicine. He always made them pay for these by their attendance at a ten minutes’ talk which preceded the regular business on which they came. But the doctor did not usually address these people on religious topics. His faith in the power of Christ to redeem them was strong and unquestioning, but he knew that in the streets, through the efforts of the Salvation Army and other evangelists, they were at their own doors continually hearing of the way of salvation. It was rather a gospel of self-help that Dr. Stapleton preached to them. He wanted them to love God, but since they could not do that because they did not as yet love their fellow-men, he sought to make them at least love themselves, which they were a long way from doing. So he discoursed to them, in rousing words, on cleanliness and health, on language and character, on habits and opinions, and especially on the delight and the dignity of work. There were some strange ideas among these people in regard to this last subject; they actually talked of themselves as the working-classes, while many of them were as idle as they could be. Public movement was in the direction of shortening the hours of labour for men; and it was hoped, therefore, that since many of them only worked eight hours, the professional classes might presently rest when they had been engaged for twelve, and that women would not be expected to work for more than sixteen. But these women who were helped by Dr. Stapleton, whose homes were dirty and wretched, and whose persons were untidy, did very little real work at all; and he knew that if they could be persuaded to love, instead of hate, it, a vast difference would at once be made to their lives. So he did what he could, and very sympathetically, since he knew under what terrible conditions many of