At the end of the month Dr. Lynch came back, to close up his business affairs, previous to his final departure. The people protested. Squire Green was down with the liver complaint, and as a special favor, the doctor consented to see him; then to attend him while he remained. There was a supper of the club at the hotel; seven times the doctor positively refused to be present, and finally went. A man at the Mills had his leg crushed on the railroad; the doctor reluctantly consented to amputate it. Mrs. Jones had an ill turn; he could not refuse her earnest petition. He performed all these kind acts with apparent unwillingness, and still continued to talk of going. The pressure brought to bear upon him was tremendous, and he could not resist it. A new sign, with the name of “Dr. Lynch” upon it, was nailed to his office door, for, the doctor facetiously added, his practice was already sufficient, and the name could no longer injure him. The doctor was invited to visit Pine Hill; he declined. He could not look Julia in the face, he said. He was ashamed of his conduct. She could not help despising him. He did love her, but it was right that he should suffer. “Mr. Hungerford, I am no hypocrite,” added the doctor. “When I say suffer, I mean so. God knows how gladly I would resume my old intimacy with your family; but I shall remain a voluntary exile. I do not deserve any further kindness at your hands.” “We shall forget the past. We do not ask you to punish yourself so severely. Mr. Birch would be as glad to see you at Pine Hill as I should.” “He overwhelms me with his generosity. He loves Julia; so do I. I will not go.” “That does not alter the case.” “I will not seem to come between him and her.” “Julia cannot be bargained for.” “No; but I can prove my regard for Mr. Birch, my willingness to suffer for his sake, by not attempting to win her. If this involves any presumption on my part, it does not affect my intentions towards our mutual friend. Let us change the topic, Mr. Hungerford,” added the doctor, as he unlocked a closet and took from it a human skull. Eugene was annoyed. “One more act of justice yet remains to be done, Mr. Hungerford. This is the skull of Buckstone.” “Indeed!” exclaimed Eugene, disgusted at the idea it suggested. “Here is the part where Ross struck the fatal blow,” added the doctor, pointing to a place on the skull where the bone was beaten in and broken. “Why do you keep it?” “I do not purpose to do so. I shall employ the sexton who buried the body to put this in the coffin. I will restore the brain, which I have kept in spirits. If you please, I will explain to you the nature of Mr. Dunbar’s disease, and show you in this brain just what the trouble was.” “No, I thank you,” replied Eugene.