"Why, you're not thinking of going back--of leaving me here alone--of leaving me--me--er--" He trailed off, leaving his sentence unfinished, and stood looking appealingly at his friend. "Why, my dear boy, what nonsense you are talking," replied Scales. "Leave you--alone? Why, man, you've your aunt and your relatives. There's your cousin out there now." "Yes, yes--of course--I know. But don't go, Jack. I'm--I'm ill. I--I want you to set.--to set me right. Don't--don't go and leave me, Jack." "Now, there's a wicked old impostor for you, Lady Scarlett!" cried the doctor, going close up to his friend, catching him by both shoulders, giving him a bit of a shake, and then patting him on the chest and back. "Not so stout as he was, but sound as a roach. Lungs without a weak spot. Heart pumping like a steam-engine--eyes clear--skin as fresh as a daisy--and tongue as clean. Get out, you sham Abram! pretending a pain to get me to stay!" "Yes, of course I'm quite well--quite well, Jack; but a trifle--just a trifle low. I thought you'd stop with me, and take--take care of me a bit and put me right. I'm--I'm so lonely down here now." Lady Scarlett did not speak; but there was a quiver of the lip, and a look in her eyes as she turned them upon the doctor, that disarmed him. "She does care for him," he said to himself. "She must care for him." "I tell you what it is," he said aloud; "you've been overdoing it in those confounded greenhouses of yours. Too much hot air, moist carbonic acid gas, and that sort of thing.--Lady Scarlett, he has been thinking a deal more of his melons than of his health." "Yes; he does devote a very, very great deal of attention to them," assented Lady Scarlett eagerly. "To be sure, and it is not good for him.--You must go up to town more and attend to business." "Yes, of course; I mean to--soon," said Scarlett, with his eyes wandering from one to the other. "Here, you must beg off with Lady Scarlett, and come up with me." "With you? What! to town?" "To be sure; and we'll have a regular round of dissipation: Monday pops; the opera; and Saturday concerts at the Crystal Palace. What do you say?" "No!" said Scarlett, in a sharp, harsh, peremptory way. "I am not going to town again--at present." "Nonsense, man I--Tell him he may come, Lady Scarlett." "Oh yes, yes; I should be glad for him to go!" cried Lady Scarlett eagerly; and then she shrank and coloured as she saw the doctor's searching look. "There, you hear." "Yes, I hear; but I cannot go. The glass-houses could not be left now." "What, not to our old friend Monnick?" "No; certainly not; no," cried Scarlett hastily. "Come out now--in the garden, Jack. I'll show you.--Are you very busy in town--much practice?" "Practice?" cried Scales, laughing, and thoroughly off his guard as to himself. "Not a bit, my dear boy. I'm a regular outcast from professional circles. No practice for me."