support her."

The doctor looked at the young man attentively. "And yet," said he, in a
gentler voice, "you, young man, are, by your account, a perfect stranger
to her, or were so when you undertook to bring her to London. You have a
good heart, always keep it. Very healthy thing, sir, a good heart,--that
is, when not carried to excess. But you have friends of your own in
town?"

LEONARD.--"Not yet, sir; I hope to make them."

DOCTOR.--"Pless me, you do? How?--I can't make any."

Leonard coloured and hung his'head. He longed to say, "Authors find
friends in their readers,--I am going to be an author." But he felt that
the reply would savour of presumption, and held his tongue.

The doctor continued to examine him, and with friendly interest. "You
say you walked up to London: was that from choice or economy?"

LEONARD.--"Both, sir."

DOCTOR.--"Sit down again, and let us talk. I can give you a quarter of
an hour, and I'll see if I can help either of you, provided you tell me
all the symptoms,--I mean all the particulars."

Then, with that peculiar adroitness which belongs to experience in the
medical profession, Dr. Morgan, who was really an acute and able man,
proceeded to put his questions, and soon extracted from Leonard the boy's
history and hopes. But when the doctor, in admiration at a simplicity