hat, and went to his patient.

"He'll not be above ten minutes or at any rate a quarter of an hour,"
thought Barry, "and then I must do it. How he sucked it all in about
the farm!--that's the trap, certainly." And he stood leaning with
his back against the mantel-piece, and his coat-laps hanging over
his arm, waiting for and yet fearing, the moment of the doctor's
return. It seemed an age since he went. Barry looked at his
watch almost every minute; it was twenty minutes past nine,
five-and-twenty--thirty--forty--three quarters of an hour--"By Heaven!"
said he, "the man is not coming! he is going to desert me--and I shall
be ruined! Why the deuce didn't I speak out when the man was here!"

At last his ear caught the sound of the doctor's heavy foot on the
gravel outside the door, and immediately afterwards the door bell was
rung. Barry hastily poured out a glass of raw spirits and swallowed it;
he then threw himself into his chair, and Doctor Colligan again entered
the room.

"What a time you've been, Colligan! Why I thought you weren't coming
all night. Now, Terry, some hot water, and mind you look sharp about
it. Well, how's Anty to-night?"

"Weak, very weak; but mending, I think. The disease won't kill her now;
the only thing is whether the cure will."

"Well, doctor, you can't expect me to be very anxious about it:
unfortunately, we had never any reason to be proud of Anty, and it
would be humbug in me to pretend that I wish she should recover, to rob
me of what you know I've every right to consider my own." Terry brought