“I am sure, my dear one. Ah, I am but too sure. Would to God there were a chance of my being mistaken! Ah, dear, dear child, it is my lot to look on happiness through another man's eyes. And, believe me, there is more happiness in doing so than the world knows of. No, no! Do not speak--for God's sake, do not speak to me! Do not say those words which are trembling on your lips, for they mean unhappiness to both of us.” She continued looking at him; then suddenly, with a little cry, she turned away, and throwing herself down on the sofa, burst into tears, with her face upon one of the arms, which her hands held tightly. After a time he went to her side and laid a hand upon her hair. She raised her head and looked up to him with streaming eyes. She put a hand out to him, saying in a low but clear voice-- “You are right. Oh, I know you are right. I will not speak that word; but I can never--never cease to think of you as the best--the noblest--the truest of men. You have been my best friend--my only friend--and there is no dearer name that a man can be called by a woman.” He bent his head and kissed her on the forehead, but spoke no word. A moment afterwards Mrs. Horneck entered the room. “Oh, mother, mother!” cried the girl, starting up, “I knew that I was right--I knew that Dr. Goldsmith would be able to help me. Ah, I am a new girl since he came to see me. I feel that I am well once more--that I shall never be ill again! Oh, he is the best doctor in the world!” “Why, what a transformation there is already!” said her mother. “Ah, Dr. Goldsmith was always my dear girl's friend!” “Friend--friend!” she said slowly, almost gravely. “Yes, he was always my friend, and he will be so forever--my friend--our friend.” “Always, always,” said Mrs. Horneck. “I am doubly glad to find that you have cast away your fit of melancholy, my dear, because Colonel Gwyn has just called and expresses the deepest anxiety regarding your condition. May I not ask him to come up in order that his mind may be relieved by seeing you?” “No, no! I will not see Colonel Gwyn to-day,” cried the girl. “Send him away--send him away. I do not want to see him. I want to see no one but our good friend Oliver Goldsmith. Ah, what did Colonel Gwyn ever do for me that I should wish to see him?” “My dear Mary----” “Send him away, dear mother. I tell you that indeed I am not yet sufficiently recovered to be able to have a visitor. Dr. Goldsmith has not yet given me a good laugh, and till you come and find us laughing together as we used to laugh in the old days, you cannot say that I am myself again.” “I will not do anything against your inclinations, child,” said Mrs. Horneck. “I will tell Colonel Gwyn to renew his visit to you next week.” “Do, dear mother,” cried the girl, laughing. “Say next week, or next year, sweetest of mothers, or--best of all--say that he had better come by and by, and then add, in the true style of Mr. Garrick, that 'by and by is easily said.'”