Mr. Crowe we know; his companion needs some introduction. He was not a very scientific man, but withal a most successful physician. He managed somehow to do his patients a great deal of good, yet as he did not always know exactly why, some of his colleagues did not see the benefit of it, though the patients certainly did not offer any objection to the cure on this account. His colleagues did not exactly go the length of saying that the patients ought to have refused to be cured on such unscientific conditions; for as their contempt for the mental powers of patients in general was immeasurable, they probably thought them capable of any unscientific meanness. So Dr. Graves was not very popular with the younger and ultra-scientific members of St. Bernard’s staff, though his out-patient waiting-rooms were always crowded with suffering human beings, whose gratitude for his kindly, and generally efficient, help was unbounded. The students liked him and valued his teaching—that is, the younger ones did; but when they had been long enough at the hospital, they, too, came to see that a cure on unscientific grounds and upon doubtful principles was no cure at all; so they pitied his ignorance and turned elsewhere for knowledge. Mr. Crowe would not have been out of his suitable environment in this very city of Granada had he happened to have been born in Isabella the Catholic’s time. Perhaps he would have made, in some respects, an excellent Inquisitor. Certainly he would have done well for one of the doctors who had to stand in the torture-room to say exactly how much more pain the victim could bear. The days of the Inquisition being run out, Mr. Crowe, as we said, would have been a square man in a round hole if the science of physiology had not demanded an expositor. They were talking, these two doctors, at the Alhambra Hotel, about the only daughter and the orphan child of the great Sir Martin Lee, late consulting physician to St. Bernard’s, who had amassed enormous wealth by the practice of his profession, and recently dying, had left no less a sum than two hundred and fifty thousand pounds to his daughter, beside great legacies to friends and public institutions, amongst which St. Bernard’s came in for its share. Known to both of the speakers of course was Mildred Lee, who, with her aunt, was expected that night to arrive in Granada, and would then with the two doctors continue the journey homewards.