regiment who gets these things 'done'
for me with his own fellow, and he says
they can't wait any longer, and they'll all
be down on him."

A peculiar twinkle came into the Doctor's
eyes. "Oh, I see: can't do it himself, but
knows a friend in the city who can. That's
the regular formula. Well, and who is he,
my dear boy?"

"I am bound in honour, you know——"

"Oh, all right. But don't worry yourself
now; make your mind easy, my poor
fellow. I know how to deal with these
gentry. Many's the young fellow has come
to me before you with, 'For God's sake,
do something for me; speak to that
shark!' High, tiptop young fellows, with
good thick claret in their veins; and I did
all I could, in my little way. Just give me
chapter and verse, as much or as little
as you like—Heaven knows I don't want to
worm myself into your secrets—and we'll
see what we can do for you."

The Doctor took out a very ill-cut
pencil, with a point "like a bodkin," which
he laid very often to his tongue, as being
ineffective in the marking, and proceeded
to jot down figures, which he totted up
laboriously. Then he said, "Just wait
now: they would see by-and- bye."

"The next thing is, we must get you
well, show you a little quiet society and
rational enjoyment, and give up the——"
and the Doctor moved his hand to his lips.
"Oh, I declare it must be, or, I tell you
plainly, we'll be ordering a violoncello case
for you before six months. And I tell you
plainly, if we don't see reformation, I
resign and leave your health to Gamgee and
the discounters, or to any one that you
can get. Now tell me, what is it you
like?"

The young man, already fallen under the
strange spell which the Doctor could always
exercise over such natures, looked at
him vacantly.

"Cribbage? No. Cards, a round game?
No. Well, a pleasant evening, fun and
frolic, and Billy Webber singing comic
songs, and my two pretty bright girls
keeping the ball up? But see here, sir, no
tricks. I let no handsome young fellows of
fortune go hanging after them. And now
you must engage yourself solemnly to keep
aloof and be brotherly. I can't afford to
have good-looking young fellows of fortune,
who are sworn to marry heiresses, and
women of title, filling my poor children's
heads with dreams and delusions. Now
that's a bargain—mind!"

The young man looked down, and gave
a foolish smile.

"You're soft, my lad," said the Doctor to
himself, "oh, very soft." Then he resumed:
"Very well, my poor lad. I know we can
depend on you. Don't let the little debts
be on your mind. I'll arrange some of that
with the scoundrels. Ah, just look here.
See those two young creatures going out?
See how they're looking up. Could you
guess, now, who they are?"

"They're uncommon pretty girls, who
ever they are."

"Thank you, Mr. Leader; I return thanks
for the ladies. Then they are my own
little Katey and Polly. My treasures, that
I wouldn't part with for my life, or two
hundred thousand pounds. Don't I know
what some of you lads will be after—the
usual garrison flirting; but as a favour,
my dear Mr. Cecil, I shouldn't mind if
you passed it about that Peter Findlater
won't stand any tricks, or approach to
tricks. No loving and riding away! It'll
save much awkwardness. Not that I blame
your brother officers, who are a nice set
of fellows enough, and only do according
to their cloth. But that's my whim, Mr.
Leader." The two girls had now stopped
to talk with a lady. The Doctor held his
young friend back. "Whist! See, the
pretty creatures! they haven't an idea that
two gentlemen are taking an inventory of
them! Not they!"

"By Jove, she has a sweet face!" said
the young man, suddenly.

"As ripe as a peach, and bright as a
rose. That's my Polly. Match that in
London, sir, in or out of Rotten Row——"

"No; I don't remember. And the other
—what a sweet look! Like what you see
in the churches—so soft and angel-like."

"Oh, that's Katey," said the Doctor,
with a change in his voice. " Oh, a good
girl—no better. But with Polly, you
know, you might light up a drawing-
room." Then the Doctor went his way.

CHAPTER XVI. A BLACK SHEEP.

THE regiment which had brought so
much joy to Tilston, was now pretty well
settled down in quarters. In nearly every
corps in the service are found almost the
same elements. The Captain Parker, the
selfish "knowing hand," who finds every
town—or rather every man and boy—an
oyster, which he opens to turn to his own
profit with an offensive candour. It is
Parker who takes the young fellows' cigars,
and at the same time tells them they must