"Well, really, sir, what if he did? There's nothing master likes better after a hard week's work and a lot of anxiety than a gallop after the hounds. It does him good. Why, a doctor wants taking out of himself sometimes, specially one who works as hard as master does. A medical man's anxiety sometimes is enough to drive him mad." "Yes, I suppose so," said Cousin Thompson smoothly. "Hadn't you better knock again?" "No, sir, I hadn't," said Mrs Milt tartly. "I'm quite sure master don't want to be disturbed." "But really, my good woman, it seems to me that he ought to have medical advice." "And it seems to me, sir, as he oughtn't to. If master's not well and can't do himself good, nobody else can, I'm sure; and if you please, sir, will you come downstairs? He'd be very angry if we stopped here." "Oh, certainly, Mrs Milt. Pray forgive me. I could not help feeling a little bit anxious about my cousin." "I haven't got nothing to forgive, sir," said the old lady; "only I'd have you know that I'm as anxious about my dear master as anybody." "Of course, Mrs Milt. Quite natural. Dr North is a remarkable man, and will some day become very famous." "I dessay, sir," said Mrs Milt drily. "I think you said you should stop all night?" "Yes, Mrs Milt; and I'm afraid my business here will keep me another day, if it is not troubling you too much." "Oh, that don't matter at all, sir. I'm sure master wishes you to be made very comfortable, and as far as in me lies, sir, I shall carry out his wishes." "Thank you, Mrs Milt. I'm sure you will," said Cousin Thompson; and Mrs Milt rustled out of the room, looking very hard and determined, but as soon as she was out of sight deep lines of anxiety began to appear about her eyes, and she wrung her hands. "Yes," said Cousin Thompson, going at once to North's table and sitting down to write a letter; "I shall sleep here to-night, Mrs Milt, and I shall sleep here to-morrow night, and perhaps a great many other nights. It is no use to be a legal adviser unless I legally look after my sick cousin's affairs." Cousin Thompson's anxiety about his cousin gave his countenance a very happy and contented look. "Things are looking up," he said, as he finished and fastened his letter. "Everything comes to the man who waits. Even pleasant-looking, plump Mrs Berens may--who knows?" He carefully tore off a stamp from a sheet in the writing-table drawer, moistened it upon a very large, unpleasant-looking tongue, and affixed it to the envelope. "Perhaps she is right, and he will be better without medical advice," he said, with a pleasant smile upon his countenance. "Why should I interfere? That is where some people make such a mistake: they will dig up a plant to look at its roots. I prefer letting a well-growing plant alone. Yes, things are looking up. Now for my genial baronet." He walked out into the ball, and took his hat, just as there was a ring at the gate bell.