The doctor loosed his arm; and drawing a long hissing breath, James Scarlett walked swiftly down the garden-path to where, in the moist dark shades below the trained hazels, the summer-house had been formed as a nook for sunny scorching days. It was close to the river, and from it there was a glorious view of one of the most beautiful reaches of the Thames. James Scarlett recalled many a happy hour passed within its shade, and the rage that burned within his breast gave place to a misery so profound that, as he reached the turn that led to the retreat, he stopped short, pressing his hands to his throat and panting for his breath, which hardly came to his labouring breast. And as he stood there, he heard his cousin's voice, in the silence of the evening, saying softly: "Then you promise? I will be at the station to meet you, and no one will know where you have gone." James Scarlett's brain swam as he heard the answer. It was: "Yes!" A faithful promise for the next evening; and as he listened and heard each word clearly, he staggered back and nearly fell. Recovering himself somewhat, though, he walked slowly back, groping in the dark as it were, with his hands spread out before him, to keep from striking against one or other of the trees. The next minute, the doctor had him by the hand, and was hurrying him away, when Scarlett gave a sudden lurch, and would have fallen, had not his friend thrown one arm about him, and then, lifting him by main force, carried him to the house. The French window of the study was open; and he bore him in and laid him upon a couch, where, after a liberal application of cold water to his temples, he began to revive, opening his eyes and gazing wonderingly around. Then, as recollection came back, he uttered a low sigh, and caught at the doctor's hand. "Kate!" he said softly. "Go and fetch poor Kate." Volume 2, Chapter XII. THE DOCTOR'S EYESIGHT IMPROVES. Doctor Scales left his friend, after sending word by one of the servants that he wished to see Lady Scarlett. The meeting would be very painful, and it was one to be avoided. Consequently, beyond encountering Aunt Sophia in the course of the evening and answering a few questions, the doctor managed so well that he saw no one else belonging to the establishment before asking whether Scarlett would see him again, and retiring for the night. "It isn't a question of medicine," he had said to himself. "Wretched woman! I always mistrusted her. I don't know why, but I did. And now, what will be the next movement? They will separate of course; and after poor Scarlett has got over the shock, I daresay he will mend.--How closely he kept it, poor fellow. He must have loved her very dearly, and would not speak while it was mere suspicion." It was just about this time that Aunt Sophia came to him, to ask him if he would have some tea. "No," he said shortly; "not to-night." "Do you know what agitated my nephew so much?"