"Never mind about blessings; be a little grateful to Mr Brettison, who has been like a hundred hospital nurses rolled into one, and give up this mad idea." "But it is not mad," pleaded Stratton. "I only want to go to the church. I am quite strong enough now. I want to see her married, that is all. Mr Brettison, you see how calm I am." "Yes, very," said the old botanist, smiling sadly. "Calm with your temples throbbing and your veins too full. My dear boy, if you go to that wedding, you will over-excite yourself and we shall have a serious relapse." "If I do go?" said Stratton quietly. "I shall certainly have it. I mean to go." He rose from the couch on which he had been lying, walked into the bedroom, and closed the door. "Did you ever see such a mule, Mr Brettison?" cried Guest as soon as they were alone. "I was a fool to come in and tell him I was going; but I thought he had got over it, and he knew it was to-day." "You are going as one of the friends?" "Yes, Miss Jerrold asked me," said Guest, rather consciously; "and of course he would have known afterward, and reproached me for not telling him. What is to be done?" "Certainly not thwart him," replied Brettison. "I was going out into the country to-day." "Collecting?" "Yes, my dear sir, a little. My great hobby, Mr Guest. But I will not go. We should do more harm than good by stopping him, so I'll go to the church with him." "But I dread a scene," said Guest. "Suppose he should turn wild at seeing her lead up the aisle. Fancy the consequences. It would be cruel to the lady. It is not as if she had jilted him." "Never cared for him a bit, did she?" whispered Brettison. "H'm! Well, sir, I don't quite like to say. At all events, Miss Myra Jerrold accepted this Mr Barron before poor old Malcolm spoke a word, and I am convinced that she felt certain he did not care for her." "An unfortunate business, Guest. Poor lad! poor lad! But there, he recovered, and any opposition would, I am sure, throw him back." "But the lady?" "Have no fear; Malcolm Stratton will, I am sure, be guilty of no insane folly. I know him better than you, Guest." "I think not," said the young man, smiling. "We will not argue the point," replied the old botanist, taking Guest's hand. "We both think we know him better than anyone else, and after all have not half sounded the depths of his nature." "Well, I leave him to you," said Guest. "I have no time to spare. I'm off now, old fellow," he cried, approaching the bedroom door. "All right," cried Stratton cheerfully as he came back and held out his hand. "My kindest regards to Edie. Don't be afraid, old fellow; I am going to behave sensibly. You need not fear a scene." "But I--"