"You are tired," he said gently. "You shall not talk any more to me now, and I shall forbid your holding any more levees to-day. After which," he added, the humourous expression coming back, "I shall expect to hear a proclamation going through Pattaquasset, that, like the knights of old, you are ready for all comers!--Well--I'll come and see you to-morrow; and as long as you'll let me, as a friend; for the pleasure of talking. You can have it all your own way, with a few more days' strength. Will you have a levee to-morrow at the same hour?" A little play of the lips came with the answer-- "Will that suit you?--I'll send you word." Then looking up at the doctor with a different expression, he added, "What do you think of my pleasant things?" "Hardly in my line--" said the doctor with a carelessness which was somewhat dubious in its character. "It is very well for those who find the subject pleasant. I confess I have never studied it much." "Then you have but half learned your profession." But the words were so spoken that they could not give offence. Neither did the doctor seem disposed to take offence. "I'll ask you what you mean by that to-morrow," he said very pleasantly. "I thought I had learned my profession. Have you learned yours?" The last words were with a keen eye to the answer. "Some people dignify my present business with that name," Mr. Linden said. "Well, you shall discourse to me more at length to-morrow," said the doctor. "Shall I come later?" "I don't expect to be in school to-morrow, so you may name your own time," Mr. Linden said with a pleasant look. "But remember,--a physician who has no skill to feel the pulse of the mind, no remedies that can reach its fever or its chills,--is but half a physician. If I had never studied the subject,--one word about heaven and the way thither would be worth more to me than all the science of medicine ever discovered! It is now--" he said in a low tone, as the flush passed away. And then holding out his hand to Dr. Harrison, Mr. Linden added, "I fully appreciate your skill and kindness--you need not doubt it." The hand was taken, and grasped, cordially but in silence. Whether the doctor went straight from Mr. Simlins' house to church--where he was not a very constant attendant--it does not appear. What is certain about the matter, is, that he was outside of the church door after service just at the time that Faith Derrick found herself there, and that he assumed a place at her side and walked with her towards her mother's house instead of taking the other direction towards his own. Faith was alone, Mrs. Derrick having chosen to stay at home _in case_ she should be sent for. The mist had cleared off completely, and the sunny warm air invited to lingering in it. Faith would not have lingered, but the doctor walked slowly, and she could not leave him.