"I feel quite equal to the task of taking care of myself, thank you, doctor." "You don't mean to say, man, you have dressed your arm yourself?" "What _do_ you suppose my powers are equal to?" "That is a matter," said the doctor, "upon which I stand in doubt--which gives me an uncomfortable, troublesome sort of feeling when I am in your presence. It must be superstition. I suppose I shall get the better of it--or of you!--in time. Meanwhile, who _has_ dressed your arm for you?" The answer was given very quietly, very simply, not very loud. "The lady whom you had the honour of instructing in the art, Dr. Harrison." "Did you do it well?" said Dr. Harrison somewhat comically, wheeling round before Faith. She was a contrast; as her face looked up at him, rather pleased, and her soft voice answered,--"I think I did, sir." "I don't doubt you did! And I don't doubt you would do anything. Are you preparing to be another Portia? And am I to be Bellario?" "I don't know what you mean, Dr. Harrison." "Do you know the story of Portia?--in the Merchant of Venice?" "I never read it." "She was a dangerous character," said the doctor. "Portia, Miss Derrick, wishing to save not the life but the character and happiness of a--But what a way this is to tell you the story! Is there a Shakspeare here?" "We haven't it," said Faith quietly. "I'll bring the play the next time I come, if you will allow me," he said sitting down by her;--"and indoctrinate you in something more interesting than my first lesson. How shall I thank you for doing my work for me?" "It became my work." "I am in your debt nevertheless--more than you can know without being one of my profession. I have some thing that I wish to submit to your inspection, and to take your advice upon, too. It will be fit to be seen, I hope, by the day after to-morrow. If I could I would bring it here--but as that is not possible--Will you go to see it?" "Where is it?" "Not far; but it will cost you the taking of a few steps." Faith declared she had hardly time to go to see anything; but was obliged finally to yield to persuasion, and Thursday was the day fixed. The thing, whatever it was, however, was not ready when the day came, and the exhibition was put off indefinitely. CHAPTER XXIX.