"That's right," said Mary, smiling. "Do come oftener; I'm very much alone. We will not talk about our ailments," she added with a smile. "No, of course not; but I have been very poorly, dear, and I sent for Dr North. Do you take any interest in Dr North?" Mrs Berens was not subtle enough of intellect to note the change in Mary's countenance. At first there was a faint flush; then a waxen pallor; but she mastered her emotion, though her heart beat heavily as she said: "Of course. He was very good and kind to me all through my illness." "Yes, poor man--poor, dear man!" sighed the widow. "And of course Mr Salis likes him very much?" "Yes; they are very warm friends," said Mary quietly. "Then do--do pray talk to your brother," cried Mrs Berens, with pathetic eagerness. "No, no, Mrs Berens," said a bluff, deep voice. "I'm always with my sisters, and they talk to me too much." "Oh, Mr Salis! You shouldn't, you know," cried the widow, all of a flutter. "You shouldn't come in so suddenly." "Why, I only came in to say `how do?'" replied Salis pleasantly, as he shook hands. "There, sit down again, and tell me what I am to be talked to about." "Oh, really, Mr Salis, I--I--I was only going to say, pray talk to or see to poor Dr North. I'm afraid he's very far from well." "So am I," cried Salis. "I have just been telling him so." "He--he has been here, then--just now?" "Not exactly just now; I mean this morning. You noticed, then, that he seemed ill and over-excited?" "Oh, yes," cried Mrs Berens, as Mary tried to lie back perfectly calm, but with her eyes glancing rapidly from one to the other, and her trembling fingers telling the agitation from which she suffered. "I was so poorly that I sent for him, and he quite startled me: his manner was so strange and abrupt. I'm sure he's being worried over something." "Studies too hard," said Salis quietly. "He will do it, and advice is of no avail. Mrs Milt tells me that he sits up at night. Doctors are like clergymen, I'm afraid, Mrs Berens: they are fond of teaching and curing other people, but they neglect themselves." "There, I hope you will give him a good talking to, Mr Salis," said the widow, rising to go; "for I should really not like to ask him to see me again until he is better. He seemed to be so wild and eccentric: he quite startled me." "Just for the sake of saying something, Mary," said the curate as soon as they were alone; and, in answer to Mary's inquiring eyes, "Horace has made up his mind to distinguish himself for Leo's sake, and, heigho! my dear, things seem to be very awkward, and I don't know how to set them right." Volume 2, Chapter XI. AN INTERRUPTION. Other people, too, noticed the doctor's strangely intent manner, as he went hurriedly about among his patients every morning, and then returned to his study to pore over sundry manuscript notes and refer to certain books.