member of our congregation; and he it was who recommended papa, some time since, to give up his work as a minister and take a long holiday in foreign parts.

"I am glad to have met with you," the doctor said.

"Your sister, I find, is away on a visit; and I want to speak to one of you about your father."

It seemed that he had been observing papa, in chapel, from what he called his own medical point of view. He did not conceal from me that he had drawn conclusions which made him feel uneasy. "It may be anxiety," he said, "or it may be overwork. In either case, your father is in a state of nervous, derangement, which is likely to lead to serious results--unless he takes the advice that I gave him when he last consulted me. There must be no more hesitation it. Be careful not to irritate him --but remember that he must rest. You and your sister have some influence over him; he won't listen to me."

Poor dear papa! I did see a change in him for the worse --though I had only been away for so short a time.

When I put my arms around his neck and kissed him, he turned pale, and then flushed up suddenly; the tears came into his eyes. Oh, it was hard to follow the doctor's advice and not to cry, too; but I succeeded in controlling myself. I sat on his knee and made him tell all that I have written here about Helena. This led to our talking next of the new lady, who is to live with us as a member of the family. I began to feel less uneasy at the prospect of being introduced to this stranger, when I heard that she was papa's cousin. And when he mentioned her name, and saw how it amused me, his poor worn face brightened into a smile. "Go and find her," he said, "and introduce yourself. I want to hear, Eunice, if you and my cousin are likely to get on well together."

The servants told me that Miss Jillgall was was the garden.

I searched here, there, and everywhere, and failed to find her. The place was so quiet, it looked so deliciously pure and bright, after smoky, dreary London, that I sat down at the further end of the garden, and let my mind take me back to Philip. What was he doing at that moment, while I was thinking of him? Perhaps he was in the company of other young ladies, who drew all his thoughts away to themselves? Or perhaps he was writing to his father in Ireland, and saying something kindly and prettily about me? Or perhaps he was looking forward, as anxiously as I do, to our meeting next week.


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The Legacy of Cain


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