Margaret arrived at this gentleman's door, and was shown into the surgery just as he was preparing to go into the country. The surgery was a lofty room, though of small dimensions; the window looked down a neatly paved area, beside the offices of the house; and flower-stands, filled with geraniums and other green-house plants, stood against the side of the wall opposite the kitchen. All was neatness within and without the walls of his house. She had scarcely been seated in the surgery a minute, before in came the merry man, with his cheerful smile and ready address. "Well, young woman, what's the matter with you, eh? What is it? A bad tooth? let us see--let us see. It can be nothing else. You look the picture of health! What's the matter?" "Nothing is the matter, sir," said Margaret, rising and curtsying. "Then what do you want with the doctor, my girl?" "I am come to ask you, sir, if you could help me to a place." "A place!" cried the doctor; "why, whom do you take me for? Did you think my surgery was a register-office for servants? What have I to do with places? Who on earth sent you to me?" "No one sent me, sir; I came of my own accord, because you are the only person that I know in Ipswich." "Well, they say a great many more people know Tom Fool than Tom Fool knows. I don't recollect ever seeing you before. I know not who you are in the least." "What, sir! do you not remember when you lifted me off the pony at your door, ever so many years ago, and called me a brave little girl, and told me, when you left me at my father's, that if ever I wanted a friend I should find one in you?" "What! are you the girl that made the pony go? Can you be Margaret Catchpole, the heroine of Nacton Turf?" "I am Margaret, sir; I left my uncle's, at Brandiston, this morning, and am come to Ipswich in search of a place. I have lost my sister, my mother, and two brothers, and, knowing no one in Ipswich but you, I thought, sir, as you promised to help me, you would not be offended at my asking. I only want to work and live without being burdensome to any one." "Well, and what place do you want, my girl?" "I can do any kind of plain work, sir, from the cow-house to the nursery." "Nursery! nursery! do you know anything about the care of children?" "I am very partial to children, sir, and children are very fond of me; my uncle had seven little ones, and only me to look after them until he married again." "Humph!--Well, go into my kitchen, my girl"--and here the kind-hearted man opened his door and introduced her to his cook. "Sally, this is the girl that rode the pony for the doctor, see and take care of her. Where is your young mistress?" But suddenly turning round as if a thought struck him he said, "Margaret! Margaret! my girl, stop one moment, I must know if you have quite recovered from that complaint you had before you left the Priory Farm?" "Dear me, sir, I never was ill there."