"If I had done that fellow a deadly wrong I should not feel very happy and comfortable in my own mind," said Oldroyd, as he looked in the direction in which the man had disappeared. "Ah, well, it's no business of mine; and, thank goodness, I lead too busy a life to have many of the temptations talked of by good old Doctor Watts." "Now, then, I've taken my physic," he added, after a few minutes' thought, and with a cheery smile on his countenance, "so I'll go and have my sugar. Go on, Peter." Peter went on, and, as if knowing where to go, took the doctor straight to The Firs. Volume 3, Chapter XV. THE IMAGE FADES. "Oh, how you startled me." "Can't help being ugly," said Oldroyd merrily. "Eliza said you had come in, and were down the garden, so I took the liberty of following." "Does mamma know?" said Lucy, with a guilty look at the house. "I really can't tell," said Oldroyd, smiling. "I shall not look for her permission now, since I consider myself your duly qualified medical attendant, your life physician, I hope." "Really, Mr Oldroyd," said Lucy, "you need not feel my pulse to-day." "Indeed, but I must," he said; "and look into your eyes to see if they are clear." "What nonsense!" said Lucy. "I suppose next you'll want me to put out my tongue." "No," he said laughing, "your lips will do." "Philip! For shame! Anyone might have seen. You shouldn't." "Save that I would not have anyone witness of so holy a joy as that kiss was to me," whispered Oldroyd, "the whole world might see my love for you, little wife to be. There's no shame in it, Lucy. I am so happy. And you?" "I'm very, very miserable," she cried, looking in his face with eyes that denied the fact. "Then you are to tell me your trouble," he whispered, fondly, "and I am to console you." "But I don't think you can, Philip." "Well, let us hear," he said. "What is the trouble?" "It is about poor Moray." "Ah! Yes!" said Oldroyd slowly. "And Glynne!" "Whom you have just been to see, eh?" "Yes." "I once knew a case," said Oldroyd, "where two people were most tenderly attached to each other--the gentleman far more so than the lady; but they, loving as they did, were kept apart by foolish doubts and misconceptions and pride." "It is not true," said Lucy sharply. "That they were kept apart like that?" "No; that--that--" "The gentleman was more deeply touched than the lady? No; that part is not true. It was just the reverse." "And that is not true either," said Lucy archly. "Well, we'll not argue the point," said Oldroyd, laughing. "But I'll go on. In their case no one interfered to set matters straight, and they only came right through the tender affection and good heart of the dearest little girl who ever lived."