Neil smiled. "Ah, that's better. Sit down close up here for a while. Burwood and Alison will have a cigar together, and not miss you." "Oh, no," said Neil rather bitterly. "They do not care much for my society." "Why not?" cried his father sharply. "You are an able, cultured man--a clever surgeon." "But not a veterinary surgeon, father," said Neil, smiling. Ralph Elthorne nodded and smiled. "No," he said; "you are right. They do seem to think of nothing but horses. I was the same once, I'm afraid, my boy. Perhaps I shall think a good deal of horses still; but," he continued sadly, "from a very different point of view to that of the past." "Never mind the past, father," said Neil quickly. "Think of the future." "A poor future for me, Neil," said Elthorne, shaking his head. "By no means, my dear father. There is nothing to prevent your living another fifteen or twenty years." "Like this?" replied Elthorne despairingly, as he glanced down at his helpless limbs. "Like this, sir. You are a wealthy man, and can soften the hardships of your state in a hundred ways." "Ah, well, we shall see, my boy, we shall see." "Have you been reading?" asked Neil, glancing at a book on the little table by the side of the couch. "No. Nurse Elisia was reading to me when Maria brought her a message." "Shall I go on reading where she left off?" said Neil, taking up the book and feeling a kind of pleasure in holding the little volume so lately in her hands. "No, no, I am tired of poetry and history. What are you writing now?" "Only some notes on a case that is taking up a good deal of attention just now." "Ah!" said the elder man eagerly. "I should like to hear that." "It is very dry and tedious, I'm afraid; only of interest to the professional man." "But I take an interest in such things now. Will you read it to me, Neil?" "Of course, sir. I'll fetch it," said Neil, smiling at his father's eagerness about matters that he would be unable to comprehend. "That's right, my boy. But you are sure that you will not think it a trouble?" "My dear father," cried Neil, taking his hand, "I wish you would try to understand me better. I'm afraid you do not." "Yes, yes, my boy. I do understand you, indeed I do. Don't think because I have lain here, querulous and complaining, that I have been blind as well as helpless. God bless you, my boy, for all you have done!" "Only my duty, sir," said Neil gravely, "and I only wish that--" He stopped short. "Yes--yes--what?" said his father eagerly. "That I could have followed out your wishes in another way." He rose and went out of the room, leaving the helpless man gazing sadly after him. "The tyrant's reign is over," he said sadly, "and I must be resigned to all that comes." Neil went hurriedly down to the library, to stop short as he reached the door, for there was the low murmur of a man's voice within, speaking in appealing tones.