As the carriage drove up to the well-remembered house, the street-door opened quietly, and Stephens, Lord Forestfield's valet, assisted his mistress to alight, a telegram from Sir Nugent Uffington having apprised him of Lady Forestfield's arrival. May was thankful to learn that the establishment at Seamore-place had long since been broken up, and that with the exception of a couple of women servants and the nurse there was no one there but Stephens, whose manner to her was, as it always had been, thoroughly respectful. 'His lordship is very bad, my lady,' he said in reply to May's hurried inquiry; 'I am afraid about as bad as he can be to be alive. He takes nothing to eat, has a terrible thirst upon him, always crying out for something to drink; he is as weak as a baby, and quite out of his mind, not knowing me nor any of us when we come near him. Dr. Whitaker is in the house, my lady,' he added. 'When he called this afternoon, I told him I had heard from Sir Nugent Uffington that your ladyship was expected; and he said he would look in again about this time. Shall I tell him your ladyship is here?' 'Yes,' said May, after an instant's hesitation; 'I should certainly like to speak to Dr. Whitaker before I go up-stairs.' Her first trial was now at hand. In former days Dr. Whitaker would have been very little more to her than a higher kind of servant; for the insolent people among whom she had lived were in the habit of treating all those who were not of their own class, no matter how far superior to themselves in everything save the accident of birth, as persons who were necessary to their well-being, but who were in no wise to be encouraged by familiarity. Among the members of the medical profession, in which throughout the world are enrolled many of the kindest, the bravest, and most independent specimens of humanity, there are, of course, to be found some who, whatever their private opinion of such treatment as this may be, have not the courage to resent it. Dr. Whitaker was one of these; the great Pickwickian sentiment of shouting in accordance with the wishes of the largest number was carried out by him to its fullest extent, and his horror of peccant mortality, when it not merely did not interfere with, but absolutely helped, his professional practice, was formidable in its sternness. When the scandal about Lady Forestfield had first been made public, Dr. Whitaker had given many a patient ten minutes of grateful ease from pain by his admirably graphic account of the whole transaction, and had stamped himself for ever in their minds as a man of the finest feelings, by his indignant denunciation of the women who bring shame and sorrow into the homes of such men as 'my excellent friend and patient, Lord Forestfield.' Of course Dr. Whitaker's conduct in this matter had been reported to May--when does any one say anything derogatory of us that we do not immediately hear of it from