enough to be loved. Yes, dear papa, save me. I am very young to die; and
he loves me so dearly."

The old man bustled away to put on something warmer for his night walk,
and Rosa leaned back, and the tears welled out of her eyes, now he was
gone.

Before she had recovered her composure, a letter was brought her, and
this was the letter from Christopher Staines, alluded to already.

She took it from the servant with averted head, not wishing it to be
seen she had been crying, and she started at the handwriting; it seemed
such a coincidence that it should come just as she was sending for him.


MY OWN BELOVED ROSA,--I now write to tell you, with a heavy heart, that
all is vain. I cannot make, nor purchase, a connection, except as others
do, by time and patience. Being a bachelor is quite against a young
physician. If I had a wife, and such a wife as you, I should be sure
to get on; you would increase my connection very soon. What, then,
lies before us? I see but two things--to wait till we are old, and our
pockets are filled, but our hearts chilled or soured; or else to marry
at once, and climb the hill together. If you love me as I love you, you
will be saving till the battle is over; and I feel I could find energy
and fortitude for both. Your father, who thinks so much of wealth, can
surely settle something on YOU; and I am not too poor to furnish a house
and start fair. I am not quite obscure--my lectures have given me a
name--and to you, my own love, I hope I may say that I know more than
many of my elders, thanks to good schools, good method, a genuine love
of my noble profession, and a tendency to study from my childhood. Will