the horns, and laying thereon all my sins of indolence, drive it before me as the Jews drove Apopompoeus." She walked on in the direction of the town, turning her head neither to right nor left, and keeping her eyes fixed on the blue air before her, where imagination built a home, through whose spacious halls Stanley and Jessie sported at will. On the principal street stood a fashionable dress-making and millinery establishment, and thither Salome bent her steps, resolved that the sun should not set without having witnessed some effort to redeem the pledge given to Jessie. Panoplied in Miss Jane's patronage, she demanded and obtained admission to the inner apartment of this Temple of Fashion, where presided the Pythoness whose oracular utterances swayed _le beau monde_. What passed between the two never transpired, even among the apprentices that thronged the adjoining room; but when Salome left the house she carried under her arm a large bundle which furnished work for the ensuing fortnight. Evening shadows overtook her, while yet a mile distant from home, and as she passed a small cottage, where candle-light flared through the open window, she saw Dr. Grey standing beside the bed, on which, doubtless, lay some sufferer. Ere many moments had elapsed, she heard his well-known footstep on the rocky road, and involuntarily paused to greet him. "What called you to old Mrs. Peterson's?" "Her youngest grandchild is very ill with brain fever; so ill that I shall return and sit up with him to-night." "I was not aware that physicians condescended to act as mere nurses,--to execute their own orders." "Then I fear you have formed a very low estimate of the sacred responsibilities of my profession, or of the characters of those who represent it. The true physician combines the offices of surgeon, doctor, nurse, and friend." "Mrs. Peterson is almost destitute, and to a great extent dependent on charity; consequently you need not expect to collect any fee." "Knowing her poverty, I attend the family gratuitously." "Is not your charity-list a very long one?" "Could I divest myself of sympathy with the sufferings of those who compose it I would not curtail it one iota; for I feel like Boerhaave, who once said, 'My poor are my best patients; God pays for them.'" "Then, after all, you are actuated merely by selfishness, and remit payments in earthly dross,--in 'filthy lucre,'--in order to collect your fees in a better currency, where thieves do not break through nor steal?"