The Reverend Arthur had removed the butterflies and wild flowers from his hat by the time Dr Bolter reached him, and was walking slowly up and down the study with his hands clasped behind him. There was a wrinkled look of trouble in his face. As the doctor entered he smilingly placed a chair for his friend, and seemed to make an effort to get rid of the feeling of oppression that weighed him down. Then they sat and talked of butterflies and birds for a time, fencing as it were, for somehow Dr Bolter felt nervous and ill at ease, shrinking from the task which he had set himself, while the Reverend Arthur, though burning to ask several questions upon a subject nearest his heart, shrank from so doing lest he should expose his wound to his friend's inquisitorial eyes. "I declare I'm as weak as a child," said the doctor to himself, after making several vain attempts at beginning. "It's dreadfully difficult work!" and he asked his friend if the lesser copper butterfly was plentiful in that district. "No," said the Reverend Arthur, "we have not chalk enough near the surface." Then there was a pause--a painful pause--during which the two old friends seemed to be fighting hard to break the ice that kept forming between them. "I declare I'm much weaker than a child," said the doctor to himself; and the subject was the next moment introduced by the Reverend Arthur, who, with a guilty aspect and look askant, both misinterpreted by the doctor, said, hesitatingly: "Do you know for certain when you go away, Harry?" "In three weeks, my boy, or a month at most, and there is no time to lose in foolish hesitation, is there?" "No, of course not. You mean about the subject Mary named?" "Yes, yes, of course," cried the doctor, who was now very hot and excited. "You wouldn't raise any objection, Arthur?" "No, I think not, Harry. It would be a terrible loss to me." "It would--it would." "And I should feel it bitterly at first." "Of course--of course," said the doctor, trying to speak; but his friend went on excitedly. "Time back I could not have understood it; but I am not surprised now!" "That's right, my dear Arthur, that's right; and I will try and make her a good husband." "She is a very, very good woman, Harry!" "The best of women, Arthur, the very best of women; and it will be so nice for those two girls to have her for guide." "Do--do they go--both go--with you--so soon?" said the Reverend Arthur, wiping his wet forehead and averting his head. "Yes, of course," said the doctor, eagerly. "And--and does Mary say she will accept you, Harry?" "No," said a quick, decided voice. "I told him I could not leave you, Arthur;" and the two gentlemen started guiltily from their chairs. "My dear Mary," said the curate, "how you startled me."