Doctor Luttrell's First Patient

will do my d

r smooth broad forehead, and an uneasy expression in her eyes-as though some troublesome thought had obtruded itself-presently the crinkle deepened and widened into a frown, and she walked impatiently to t

st until tea-time-she would be back in plenty of time for Marcus's late tea-he should have a warm clear fire to welcome him and a plate of smoking French toast, be

artha must go. Of course it was a pity. She liked the girl, she was so willing and good-tempered; and her round childish face was always well washed and free from smudges, and she was so good

s without a murmur, she was sure of that, but he would sigh furtively as he counted out the coins

r old muff, and no one would notice; what was the use of buying new gloves, when her hands would soon be as red and rough as Martha's. Olivia was just a li

course, it was nonsense to care about such trifles, she must be strong-minded and live above such sublunary things. Marcus would only honour her

a great-coat with a fur-lined collar passed the window; he was

to her, she felt interested in the old man, although she had never spoken to him; but he loo

eirs, and he lived at Galvaston House, the dull-looking

e; he had made a vow never to let a human being cross his threshold; he was a Roman Catholic priest in disguise, an Agnostic, a Nihilist." There was no end to Olivia's quaint surmises, but she could only be certain of two fa

g along one afternoon, when in turning a corner she almost ran a

rom the fur-lined collar; then the old man's hand touched his slouched hat mechanically, and he walked on. It was that night that Olivia was convinced

ally immense," but in spite of sarcasm and gibes on Marcus's part, Olivia chose to indulge in these harm

at Dot, who was slumbering peacefully in her cot; the kitchen was the warmest pl

ster and mistress and Dot. During her rare holiday she always entertained her mother and brot

of every variety of snub-nose, made any sort of privacy impossible. Nevertheless, on her previous holiday, as Martha, or Patty, as they called her at home, sat in her bes

ood tea, mother," observed Martha, proudly. "I k

ying, Patty, only the children do interrupt so. There, Joe and Ben, just take your sugar-sticks and be off to play. I think I have found a nice little place for Susan. She is to sleep at home, but will have all her meals an

t they are. 'Will you be so good as to clean my boots, Martha?' or 'Thank you, Martha,' when I dry the paper of a morn

ed that afternoon, fog and damp always had this effect o

ere only commenting on her old black hat and jacket. Only one article of her dress satisfied her; her boots were neat and strong. Marcus had found her one wet day warmi

showed her the thin, worn soles; "do you think that will make things easier for me, Livy?" The next

e boots and Marcus's thoughtfulness sh

int-shop, at the corner of Harbut Street, she saw her mysterious old gentl

face and peaked white beard; the heavy grey eye

oman Catholic priest came into her mind. "If I could only see him without his hat, I should know if

ed by the ruddy gleams of sunset. A tame kid was gambolling behind them, and two women were grinding corn, with the millstone between them. On the flat white roof of the h

, it was good work, he said; the Syrian faces were perfect types, and

hem, there is a puzzled look in her eyes as she lays aside her distaff, as though she

s. "Goddard, I do not know the name; the picture is cheap, too, only

and walked faster. It was bitterly cold, a miserable afternoon for Marcus, who was v

lvaston Terrace; the villas had verandahs and long,

other room had been converted into a kitchen; none of the rooms were large, but they were well-furnished, and thoroughly comfortable. During her husband's lifetime Mrs. Broderick h

he stairs, a tall, hard-feature

u. She never sleeps in daylight, and it is ill-reading and working in the fa

hungry! although two hours had not elapsed since dinner-time, and

chatter, come ben, my woman, as

bre exquisite in modulation and volume, but the face bel

charms. Fergus Broderick, a rough Scotchman, with a tongue as uncouth as his native dales, had fallen in love with her at their first meeting; he had been invited to dine at the house of the senior par

much pathos, "that I could say good-bye until the mor

for us to speak to him," and the daughter

ner of the exquisite voice had revealed her identity. Madge's long nose and sallow skin were no beauties certainly; nevertheless, before the evening was

uccumbed to some childish ailment; her husband's death-t

th. The seeds of an unsuspected disease latent in her system now showed itself, and for som

acute; the disease had reached a stage when there would be days and even weeks of t

hours of recreation. She had her charity work, her fancy work, her heavy and light reading; books and flowers

es give me their company. This morning I was listening to Plato's Dialogues, and this afternoon Sir Edwin Arnold was entertaining me at the Map

ways read aloud to Fergus in the evening; we were going through a course of Thackeray-we were in the middle of 'Phil