so did Miss Filby, who could not help rallying the invalid on the sudden recovery of her complexion. "It's only hectic," said Miss Hopkinson, “the exertion of dressing has given me a colour." "And somebody else will have a colour too," said the nurse, winking at Miss Filby, "when I tell him how very much some folks are improved." "By-the-bye," said Dr. Boreham, "it's only fair that people should know their well-wishers; and I ought to tell you, therefore, that the gentleman overhead is very friendly and frequent in his inquiries. We generally meet on the stairs, and I assure you he expresses very great solicitude-very much so indeed!" Miss Hopkinson gave a short husky cough, and the nurse and Miss Filby nodded significantly at each other. "Ho! ho! the wind sits in that quarter, does it?" said the doctor. "I may expect, then, to have another patient. 'He grew sick as she grew well,' as the old song says," and chuckling at the aptness of his own quotation, the facetious mediciner took his leave. "There he is again, I declare," exclaimed the nurse, who had listened as she closed the door. He has cotched the doctor on the stairs, and I'll warrant he'll have the whole particulars before he let's him go." 66 We "Very devoted, indeed!" said Miss Filby. must make haste, and get you about again, my dear, for his poor sake as well as your own." At this juncture Mrs. Huckins, the landlady, entered the room to ask after her lodger, and was not a little bewildered by a cross-fire of inuendoes from the nurse and the visitor. The strange behaviour of the sick lady herself helped besides to disconcert the worthy woman, across whose mind a suspicion glanced that the nasty laudanum, or something, had made the patient a little off her head. However, Mrs. Huckins got through her compliments and her curtseys, and would finally perhaps have tittered too, but that her attention was suddenly diverted by that most awful of intrusions, a troublesome child in a sick room. "Why, Billy, you little plague—why, Billy, what do you do in here? Where have you come from, sir ?—I've been looking for you this half hour." "I've been up with Mr. Tweedy, the new lodger,” said Billy, standing very erect, and speaking rather proudly. “We've been a-playing the flute.” "The WHAT!" cried all the female voices in a breath. "A-playing the flute," repeated the undaunted Billy. "Mr. Tweedy only whispers a toon into it now, but he says he'll play out loud as soon as ever the old "—here Billy looked at the invalid, and then at his mother-" he says he'll play out loud as soon as ever Miss Hopkinson is well, or else dead!" "Pray how did you leave Miss Hopkinson, maʼam,” inquired Mr. Tweedy, about an hour afterwards, of a female whom he met at the foot of the stairs. "Miss Hopkinson, sir!-oh, you horrid wicked |