LITMIR.BIZ

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aware of being the subject of a distant inquiry and answer.

      This tall clergyman approached me by-and-by: and in a little time we had got into conversation. When two people, who like reading, and know books and places, having travelled, wish to converse, it is very strange if they can't find topics. It was not accident that brought him near me, and led him into conversation. He knew German, and had read my Essays on Metaphysical Medicine which suggest more than they actually say.

      This courteous man, gentle, shy, plainly a man of thought and reading, who moving and talking among us, was not altogether of us, and whom I already suspected of leading a life whose transactions and alarms were carefully concealed, with an impenetrable reserve from, not only the world, but his best beloved friends – was cautiously weighing in his own mind the idea of taking a certain step with regard to me.

      I penetrated his thoughts without his being aware of it, and was careful to say nothing which could betray to his sensitive vigilance my suspicions respecting his position, or my surmises about his plans respecting myself.

      We chatted upon indifferent subjects for a time; but at last he said:

      "I was very much interested by some papers of yours, Dr. Hesselius, upon what you term Metaphysical Medicine – I read them in German, ten or twelve years ago – have they been translated?"

      "No, I'm sure they have not – I should have heard. They would have asked my leave, I think."

      "I asked the publishers here, a few months ago, to get the book for me in the original German; but they tell me it is out of print."

      "So it is, and has been for some years; but it flatters me as an author to find that you have not forgotten my little book, although," I added, laughing, "ten or twelve years is a considerable time to have managed without it; but I suppose you have been turning the subject over again in your mind, or something has happened lately to revive your interest in it."

      At this remark, accompanied by a glance of inquiry, a sudden embarrassment disturbed Mr. Jennings, analogous to that which makes a young lady blush and look foolish. He dropped his eyes, and folded his hands together uneasily, and looked oddly, and you would have said, guiltily for a moment.

      I helped him out of his awkwardness in the best way, by appearing not to observe it, and going straight on, I said: "Those revivals of interest in a subject happen to me often; one book suggests another, and often sends me back a wild-goose chase over an interval of twenty years. But if you still care to possess a copy, I shall be only too happy to provide you; I have still got two or three by me – and if you allow me to present one I shall be very much honoured."

      "You are very good indeed," he said, quite at his ease again, in a moment: "I almost despaired – I don't know how to thank you."

      "Pray don't say a word; the thing is really so little worth that I am only ashamed of having offered it, and if you thank me any more I shall throw it into the fire in a fit of modesty."

      Mr. Jennings laughed. He inquired where I was staying in London, and after a little more conversation on a variety of subjects, he took his departure.

      CHAPTER II.

      THE DOCTOR QUESTIONS LADY MARY, AND SHE ANSWERS

      "I like your vicar so much, Lady Mary," said I, so soon as he was gone. "He has read, travelled, and thought, and having also suffered, he ought to be an accomplished companion."

      "So he is, and, better still, he is a really good man," said she. "His advice is invaluable about my schools, and all my little undertakings at Dawlbridge, and he's so painstaking, he takes so much trouble – you have no idea – wherever he thinks he can be of use: he's so good-natured and so sensible."

      "It is pleasant to hear so good an account of his neighbourly virtues. I can only testify to his being an agreeable and gentle companion, and in addition to what you have told me, I think I can tell you two or three things about him," said I.

      "Really!"

      "Yes, to begin with, he's unmarried."

      "Yes, that's right, – go on."

      "He has been writing, that is he was, but for two or three years perhaps, he has not gone on with his work, and the book was upon some rather abstract subject – perhaps theology."

      "Well, he was writing a book, as you say; I'm not quite sure what it was about, but only that it was nothing that I cared for, very likely you are right, and he certainly did stop – yes."

      "And although he only drank a little coffee here to-night, he likes tea, at least, did like it, extravagantly."

      "Yes, that's quite true."

      "He drank green tea, a good deal, didn't he?" I pursued.

      "Well, that's very odd! Green tea was a subject on which we used almost to quarrel."

      "But he has quite given that up," said I.

      "So he has."

      "And, now, one more fact. His mother or his father, did you know them?"

      "Yes, both; his father is only ten years dead, and their place is near Dawlbridge. We knew them very well," she answered.

      "Well, either his mother or his father – I should rather think his father, saw a ghost," said I.

      "Well, you really are a conjurer, Dr. Hesselius."

      "Conjurer or no, haven't I said right?" I answered merrily.

      "You certainly have, and it was his father: he was a silent, whimsical man, and he used to bore my father about his dreams, and at last he told him a story about a ghost he had seen and talked with, and a very odd story it was. I remember it particularly, because I was so afraid of him. This story was long before he died – when I was quite a child – and his ways were so silent and moping, and he used to drop in, sometimes, in the dusk, when I was alone in the drawing-room, and I used to fancy there were ghosts about him."

      I smiled and nodded.

      "And now having established my character as a conjurer I think I must say good-night," said I.

      "But how did you find it out?"

      "By the planets of course, as the gipsies do," I answered, and so, gaily, we said good-night.

      Next morning I sent the little book he had been inquiring after, and a note to Mr. Jennings, and on returning late that evening, I found that he had called, at my lodgings, and left his card. He asked whether I was at home, and asked at what hour he would be most likely to find me.

      Does he intend opening his case, and consulting me "professionally," as they say? I hope so. I have already conceived a theory about him. It is supported by Lady Mary's answers to my parting questions. I should like much to ascertain from his own lips. But what can I do consistently with good breeding to invite a confession? Nothing. I rather think he meditates one. At all events, my dear Van L., I shan't make myself difficult of access; I mean to return his visit to-morrow. It will be only civil in return for his politeness, to ask to see him. Perhaps something may come of it. Whether much, little, or nothing, my dear Van L., you shall hear.

      CHAPTER III.

      DR. HESSELIUS PICKS UP SOMETHING IN LATIN BOOKS

      Well, I have called at Blank-street.

      On inquiring at the door, the servant told me that Mr. Jennings was engaged very particularly with a gentleman, a clergyman from Kenlis, his parish in the country. Intending to reserve my privilege and to call again, I merely intimated that I should try another time, and had turned to go, when the servant begged my pardon, and asked me, looking at me a little more attentively than well-bred persons of his order usually do, whether I was Dr. Hesselius; and, on learning that I was, he said, "Perhaps then, sir, you would allow me to mention it to Mr. Jennings, for I am sure he wishes to see you."

      The servant returned in a moment, with a message from Mr. Jennings, asking me to go into his study, which was in effect his back drawing-room, promising to be with me in a very few minutes.

      This was really a study – almost a library. The room was lofty, with two tall slender windows,

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