“No, sir! Oh, no, there is not the least occasion for alarm; these symptoms must yield to a very little judicious treatment. Abstain from the use of wine and stimulating food, and, above all things, avoid all agitation and excitement; keep from all places and persons that have the least effect upon your nerves. A day or so will set you up again. Stay, I will write you a little prescription. Here, sir, take this—it is simply a cooling draught; follow directions, and all will be right.” General Garnet took the scrap of paper, bowed, and withdrew, with a contemptuous smile upon his lips, muttering to himself: “Fool that I am, to seek medical advice of a fellow whose interest it is to make and keep me ill for a month or so! Shall I take this prescription, now? No, I feel better already. The fresh air has revived me. I will go to Point Pleasant and spend the evening with Ambrosia; her sweet smile and gentle touch will charm this fitful illness.” And turning his horse’s head, General Garnet took the road to Judge Wylie’s. The sky was clouding up, but, heedless of the threatened rain, he rode on rapidly to Point Pleasant. He spent a long, delightful evening with Miss Wylie, and left, at a late hour, more intoxicated than ever with the alluring beauty of his promised bride, and repeating, in an impassioned tone, many times, the words of his parting: “To-morrow! oh, to-morrow, Ambrosia.” He faced a cold and driving rain all the way home, and arrived at his own gate, dripping wet. Throwing the reins of his horse to an attendant, he hastened into the house. The voice of Nettie greeted him. “Here, godfather! come in here to the library; here is a good fire, and your dressing-gown and slippers all warm, and hot coffee and oysters and wine. I made them for you.” Divesting himself of his wet overcoat, cap, leggings, and gloves, he walked into the library, where he found Nettie presiding over the comforts she had prepared for him. “My dear little brownie! Why are you up so late?” “The rain waked me up, godfather, and then I couldn’t sleep any more for thinking you were out in it. So I got up and dressed myself, and came down here to make things comfortable for you.” “My own Nettie! I have been making things comfortable for you, also! But where is your granny?” “Gone to bed these two hours.” “And now you must go, my dear little one. Come and kiss me close, and then, good-night.” The elf sprang to his neck, squeezing him tightly, and rooting herself into his bosom, as though she would grow there, and then suddenly springing off, bounded from the room.