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Then, before I went to bed, I went round my garden and had family prayers with my flowers. I do that because they are all the family I've got, and God knows that all His budding things need encouragement, whether it is a widow or a snowball-bush. He'll give it to us!,

Patricia and Elinor exchanged a swift glance.,

"You are satisfied now, I think," said this latter, seeing that the major did not speak.,

"Oh!" said the major, in a satirical tone. "You found it? Where?"

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"Ask de great massa.",

He was tall, he was thin, with a dark, lean face, and fiery watchful dark eyes. For three years he had been wasting his talents in the neighboring town of Deanminster; when, if intellect were in question, he should have been shouldering his way above the crowd of mediocrities in London. The man was dispassionate, brilliant and persevering; he had in him the makings not only of a great physician, but of a great man; and he was wasting his gifts in a dull provincial town. He was unpopular in Deanminster, owing to the absence of what is termed "a good bedside manner," and the invalids of the cathedral city and Hurstleigh, for he had patients in both places, resented his brusque ways and avoidance of their scandal-mongering tea parties. Also he was a mystery; than which there can be no greater sin in provincial eyes. No one knew who Etwald was, or whence he came, or why he wasted his talents in the desert of Deanminster; and such secret past which he declined to yield up to the most persistent questioner, accentuated the distrust caused by his sombre looks and curt speeches. Provincial society is intolerant of originality.,

Yet Jen knew what he was about, and he was acting merely in accordance with an agreement he had made with Sarby. After that memorable interview in the library, when Etwald was accused and arrested, Arkel took away his prisoner in custody by virtue of the warrant, and left Major Jen alone with the counsel for the defense. The assassin--so-called--and Inspector Arkel left the room; they left the house. When the sound of Etwald's carriage--for he went to Deanminster jail in his own brougham--had died away in the distance, Jen, who had hitherto kept silence, raised his head and looked at David.,

The hours dragged heavily along in that house of mourning. The body of the dead man lay in the little chamber which looked out upon the laurel-encircled lawn. It was covered with a white sheet, the hands were folded upon the breast, and flowers had been laid thereon by the major. Over the face a handkerchief had been thrown, as the once handsome features were so discolored as to be absolutely repulsive to the sight. There was something terrible in the rigidity of the long form, stretched out so stiffly under the sheet. In the chamber candles were burning, and Jaggard was watching near the corpse. He was to watch throughout the night.