"Well, well, pluck up your spirits, man, and be what you are at your office. I do trust you Saxby; and to show you my confidence, I'll tell you frankly that I should be deeply grieved if anything came of her leanings towards that smooth, good-looking fellow.--There, what stuff I am talking. You ought to be able to get on without advice from me." Then Aunt Sophia smiled and nodded her head at the stockbroker, after which she sailed out of the room, leaving him hopeful and ready to take heart of grace, even though just then he saw Arthur Prayle go by in company with the object of his aspirations. Certainly, though, Lady Scarlett, was with them; while directly after, Sir James Scarlett passed, hanging upon Scales's arm; and the aspect of the baronet's face startled Saxby, who was clever enough at reading countenances, possessing as he did all the shrewdness of the dealer in questions of the purse. For in that face he read, or fancied he read, hopeless misery, jealousy, and distrust mingled in one. "Why," exclaimed Saxby, as they passed out of sight beyond the bushes, "the poor fellow looks worse than ever; and--everything--is drifting into the hands of that Prayle. I hope he's honest. Hang him! I hate him. "Well, I must be civil to him while I'm here. But I'll wager he hates me too; and knows that I have stood in his way just the same as he does in mine. No, not the same," he added, as he opened the French window to go out on the lawn. "In my case it is a lady, in his money. Which of us will win?" Volume 2, Chapter V. ALTHOUGH AN OLD MAID. "Well, doctor?" "Well, Miss Raleigh." "You do not bring him round." "I don't. He is worried mentally, and I can't get at his complaint." "Why not take him away, and give him a complete change?" Doctor Scales injured John Monnick's beautiful turf, that he had been at such trouble to make grow under the big mulberry tree, by suddenly screwing round his garden-seat, to stare in Aunt Sophia's face. "I say," he exclaimed, "are you a reader of thoughts or a prophetess?" "Neither. Why?" "Because you are proposing what I have planned." "Indeed! Well, is it not a good proposal?" "Excellent; but he will not listen to it. He dare not go outside the place, he says; and I believe that at first he would suffer terribly, for it is quite shocking how weak his nerves have become. He has a horror of the most trivial things; and above all, there is something troubling the brain." "What can it be?" said Aunt Sophia. "Well--I'm speaking very plainly to you, Miss Raleigh." "Of course. We trust each other, doctor." "Exactly. Well, in a case like this, it is only natural that the poor fellow should feel his position deeply, and be troubling himself about his wife." "But she seems to be most attentive to him."