smouldering brands. A few seconds of breathless waiting, and a jet
of yellow flame sprang up, faltered, died out, sprang up again, and
crept flickering in and out among the brands powdered white with
ashes. Now it was a strong, leaping flame, and all the room shone
out in its light; the ancient Turkey carpet, with its soft blending
of every colour into a harmonious no-colour; the quaint portraits,
like court-cards in tarnished gilt frames; the teak-wood chairs and
sofas, with their delicate spindle-legs, and backs inlaid with
sandalwood; Miss Phoebe's work-table, with its bag of faded crimson
damask, and Miss Phoebe herself, pleasant to look upon in her
dove-coloured cashmere gown, with her kerchief of soft net.

[Illustration: The young doctor glancing around saw all these things.]

The young doctor, glancing around, saw all these things in the light
of his newly-resuscitated fire; and seeing, gave a little sigh of
comfort, and laying down the bellows, leaned back in his chair again.

"You were going to say something, Miss Blyth?" he said, in his
eager way. "Please go on! I had to save the fire, don't you know? it
was on its last legs--coals, I should say. Please go on, won't you?"

Miss Phoebe coughed. She had been brought up not to use the word
"leg" freely; "limb" had been considered more elegant, as well as--
but medical men, no doubt, took a broader view of these matters.

"I was merely about to remark," she said, with dignity, "that in
many ways my views on this subject coincide with yours, Doctor Strong.
I have the highest respect for--a--matrimony; it is a holy estate,
and the daughter of my honoured parents could ill afford to think