ness of the smile that trembled over lip and brow, and spoke from the depths of his large, dark eye,-" then I was momentarily expecting to enter within the portals of that glorious City, where the inhabitants no more say they are sick." "Can you honestly affirm," asked the doctor, incredulously, "that you could really welcome death?" "Undoubtedly," replied Herbert, in a slow tone of consideration; "why should I not, my friend?" 66 Why should you rather?" exclaimed the doctor, a look of impenetrable gloom overshadowing his face. Herbert looked kindly and questioningly at him; then he said quietly," Does not the weary traveller welcome rest, and the exiled son exult in being once more permitted to approach his much-loved home? and can you wonder that I, too, in like manner, rejoice in the glorious prospect of laying aside these shackles of mortality, and changing the darkness and sorrow of a sin-stained world for the unending felicity and unfading brightness and purity of that true home of the soul which awaits me in my Father's house above?" 66 Strange," muttered the doctor, knitting his brow, and eyeing the young man with unequivocal astonishment. "It is not often," he went, on, rising from his seat, and speaking in a tone of affected indifference, "that my patients manifest such readiness to relinquish the things of this present life, and rush into the dark mysterious regions of that strange and incomprehensible existence which lies beyond us." Herbert raised himself on his elbow, and regarded him with a look of such grave pitying earnestness, and eager and wistful inquiry, that Dr. Gibson's eyes involuntarily fell in confusion. At length, however, resuming his former manner, he asked abruptly, "Are you sorry to find yourself recovering?" "No," replied Herbert, once more lying back on his pillow, and closing his eyes; "I can still say 'it is well.' 'God's ways are always right, And love is o'er them all, What I know not now, I shall know hereafter." An interval of silence succeeded; then Herbert, fancying that Dr. Gibson had gone, repeated in a low, clear voice, as if thinking aloud, the first two verses of one of his favourite hymns: : Christ leads me through no darker rooms Than He went through before; He that unto God's kingdom comes, room. Come, Lord, when grace has made me meet For if Thy work on earth be sweet, What will Thy glory be?" After listening thus far, Dr. Gibson, with a bitter smile upon his lips, and a miserable feeling at his heart, quietly stole out of the He professed to have no sympathy with what he termed religious enthusiasm; for he was of the world-careless and unconcerned, cold, listless, and indifferent about his soul; wandering in a state of profound moral darkness, and yet ignorant of his blinded condition; contemptuously rejecting the dull, lifeless, insipid pleasures of the earth, and yet refusing to replace them by those freely offered, solid, life-inspiring, soul-satisfying joys which are at God's right handdespising the shadow, and yet making no effort to obtain the subtance; fully convinced of the worthlessness of the world's best smiles, the hollowness of its fairest promises, the fleeting nature of its brightest visions, and yet a stranger to all that is good, and true, and abiding-godless and hopeless in the world! Still he was not happy-how indeed could he be? Often, as he stood by the bed of those who were appointed to die, and listened to their agonising, oft-repeated cry for mercy, and witnessed their last painful struggles with the King of Terrors, and their frantic eagerness to remain yet a little longer upon earth, he felt uneasy, perturbed, and oppressed in spirit, while occasionally the solemn thought flashed across his mind: "How will it be with me, when I, too, shall hear the awful summons, Set thine house in order; for thou shalt die, and not live?" CHAPTER XXXII. RECOVERY. "O star of strength! I see thee stand Thou beckonest with thy mailed hand. And I am strong again." LONGFELLOW. It was a happy day for Sir Edward Stanley when Herbert made his first appearance in the drawing-room, leaning on the arm of James Gordon. He still looked pale and thin, and his countenance bore unmistakable traces of recent illness; but he smilingly assured Lady Stanley, on her expressing her fears lest the exertion of walking should prove too much for him, that, but for Dr. Gibson's stringent orders to the contrary, he should have left his room days before. 66 Indeed," he continued with emotion, "I have already trespassed far too long on your kindness, and the least I can now do is to relieve you of my presence as soon as possible." Lady Stanley left her seat at the other end of the room, and came and sat on a low chair near his couch, as she answered gently, yet decidedly," My dear Mr. Seymour, you must on no account talk of leaving us for some time to come; at present it would be both a foolish and dangerous experiment, and one which would cause us all much disappointment." "You are very, very kind," responded Herbert, feelingly. "Kind!" she repeated, laying her hand upon his arm, and looking earnestly into his face. "Shall I ever be able to repay you for saving my dear Edward's life?" "That debt, if debt it was, has been repaid a thousandfold," exclaimed Herbert, with energy. "What is your opinion?" she asked, turning round, and addressing her son, who stood leaning on the back of her chair. "Herbert knows my ideas on the subject," he replied, smiling significantly, "but he never admits that I am right." "I suppose," said Herbert, softly and hesitatingly, after pausing for a few minutes-apparently in consideration-and Lady Stanley could see the colour slowly mounting to his pallid cheeks while putting the question" I suppose you did not think it necessary to inform my-I mean" (checking himself)" Mr. Seymour, of my illness?" "No," answered Sir Edward, promptly; but his mother interrupted him by saying, in a tone which showed that she could quite enter into his feelings, though she had acted contrary to his wishes, "At one particular stage of your illness I certainly did take the responsibility of making him acquainted with "O mother!" cried Sir Edward, half reproachfully; "I thought we had decided that no step of the kind should be taken." Lady Stanley shook her head. "I do not think we should have been justified in withholding such important information," she answered gravely; "so near a relative ought under any circumstances to have at least the option of visiting his son." "Did he send any reply?" asked Herbert, with breathless anxiety. "Yes," returned the lady, shunning his earnest, inquiring gaze; "he said they were on the point of starting for Constantinople, and that he was therefore unfortunately obliged to give up the idea of coming to see you." It did not require any very active stretch of the imagination to enable Herbert to perceive that to spare his feelings Lady Stanley had represented the case in as favourable a light as she possibly could for Mr. Seymour. "It was very kind of you to take so much trouble," he said, in a voice of suppressed agitation; "but I knew it could be productive of no real satisfaction;" and he gave utterance to a deep, involuntary sigh. "You are perhaps aware," he remarked presently, evidently speaking with a great effort, "that I do not again return to Mertonsville?' "We guessed as much," replied Sir Edward, in tones of indignation. "After the extreme kindness I have received from you, it is only right that I should explain to you how I am situated." "Some other time you can tell us all you think necessary," said Lady Stanley, soothingly; "but until you become thoroughly strong, you should dismiss every painful subject from your mind, and dwell only on those things which are calculated to cheer, instead of depressing you. Here is Dr. Gibson," she added, rising from her seat with a smile as the door opened, and that gentleman was ushered into the room. "I am sure," lowering her voice, "if we were to ask him, we should find that he fully coincides in this opinion." "I have been visiting a patient two doors off," remarked the doctor, bowing low to Lady Stanley, and then passing on to Herbert's sofa; "and hearing from Mr. Seymour's servant, whom I accidentally met, that his master had just walked downstairs, I thought I would take the opportunity of calling to ascertain whether he had suffered from the exertion." "My servant!" exclaimed Herbert, opening his eyes wide with astonishment, and half rising from the recumbent position he had been occupying. "My servant, " he repeated, ignoring the latter part of the doctor's observation, "to whom do you refer?" "To whom? James Gordon of course! and a very extraordinary person he is. Do you know"-turning with a face of suppressed amusement to Lady Stanley-"he actually had the audacity to tell me that he considered Mr. Seymour's recovery was in nowise owing to my skill; and even hinted that if the case had been left entirely in my hands it would most probably have had an altogether different termination." "What could he mean by making such an assertion?" asked Lady Stanley, looking puzzled. Dr. Gibson shrugged his shoulders as he laughingly answered, "I assure you it was not easy to fathom his meaning, so mystical was his language. He talked a great deal about a certain powerful physician, to whom, he said, he and another of his master's friends (whose name, however, he would not mention) had applied when it was found that all my remedies were of no avail; and it was to this physician he persisted in according the entire praise of Mr. Seymour's wonderful cure. "Did he appear quite serious?" "Perfectly! indeed, I suspect he was never more in earnest." "Strange!" mused the lady-" very strange! What do you think, Edward?" she asked, turning towards her son. On being thus appealed to, Sir Edward stood for the space of a few seconds speechless: the colour rushed over his face and brow, and he looked down upon the carpet with a vexed, irresolute air. Then mustering firmness, and conquering his reluctance, he lifted his eyes, and fixing them on the doctor's face said gravely,— 66 Surely, Dr. Gibson does not need to be informed the name of this great and good physician; he must be well aware that often when man says, 'Thy bruise is incurable, and thy wound is grievous,' another voice replies, 'I will restore health unto thee, and I will heal thy wounds, saith the Lord."" "What a beautiful idea!" exclaimed Herbert, regarding his friend with a look of pleased approbation. "Beautiful it may be," observed the doctor, in a half-jesting, halfserious tone. "Alas! that it should be so little comprehended; for, according to such doctrine, the world could well dispense with our poor services." "Not so, doctor," returned Herbert, with that innate politeness which characterised him on all occasions. "God works by human means; and though we do and ought to give Him the chief place in our affections, and present to Him our first tribute of grateful praise, yet the instrument must not be forgotten or undervalued." "But, Edward," said Lady Stanley, thoughtfully, "do you think we are justified in turning up these Old Testament promises, which evidently have no reference to us, and applying them to ourselves in this way?" "We need not confine ourselves to the Old Testament, mother; there are hundreds of passages still more applicable in the New. Listen to this"—and he drew forth a small pocket Bible and read— "And Jesus went about all Galilee, teaching in their synagogues, and preaching the gospel of the kingdom, and healing all manner of sickness and all manner of disease among the people. And His fame went throughout all Syria. And they brought unto Him all sick people that were taken with divers diseases and torments, and those which were possessed with devils, and those which were lunatic, and those that had the palsy; and He healed them." "Pardon me for my obtuseness," said Dr. Gibson, blandly; "but really I am quite at a loss to understand how this can possibly apply to the present case." Why, what can be plainer?" asked Sir Edward, in unfeigned surprise. "I must not, however, forget," he continued reflectively, "that had it not been for James Gordon, my own views would probably have been just as obscure." 66 Ah, he is at the bottom of it," muttered the doctor below his breath, but not so softly as to prevent Lady Stanley from catching the words, in consequence of which she drew herself up with considerable hauteur, as if offended at his having for a moment presumed to imply that her son had allowed himself to be influenced by a servant-for such she considered James Gordon, although she had several times |