Year: 1869

he loved the dogs as if they were bis
kindred and their cry was music TO
his ears; and in the most active sports
be could hold his own against odds.


Pat, poor Irish orphan that he was,
sailed forth from his native hill en-
royage to the great Wilderness of Lon
don to seek his diploma Of surgeon.
He got it in due time and, having a
trife of money to spare, bought a
"practice'' e. in a Surrey village; and a
sorry practice it proved. The natives,
for the most part, we're disgustingly
healthy; and those who occasionally
INDUCED in the luxury of such demo-
cratic ailments as fever, ague, or child
birth, were aggravatingly poor. Pat
Callanan's case was a hard one for
though he was a fellow of undoubted
skill (having come ID an old Irish clan
of hereditary physicians, J and though
in all delicate cases he had a hand as
gentle as a Woman's and as firm as
steel, he lacked the subjects to cult
vate his skill and delicate manipula-
ton on. Things were at a very lew
ebb with poor Pat, though, amidst all
his troubles, his hopeful Irish nature
rose triumphant, and the smile was
ever in his eyes and the joke on his
lip. His professional suit of black
got painfully seedy, and an ominous
grayness characterised the seams
His hat was sorely deficient in nap
His linen required very careful ad-
justment of scarf and Waisteoat. And
his boots had reached a pitch of in
frmIty which was painful to contem-
plate. 1t was no wonder then that Pat
was contemplating a departure from
Surrey to the wilds .of Australia or
somewhere else, when an event took
placewhich changed the whole cur
tent of his life.


There was no rich aristOcratic fam
lies near that unhappy village. The
neighboring estate had been purchas-
ed BY rich London Alderman, ex-
Lord Mayor and Knight bachelor
But the "Hall," as the great house
was called, was very gloomy and
ugly pile of brick, stone and mortar,
and, of course, was duly haunted by
its traditional ghosts and the sensi-
ble alderman preferred to reside in
bis handsome house on the Thames.
In due time he went the way of all
aldermen and other flesh, and left his
large property to his widow, buxOm
young dame of twenty-five. She is
what Pat would have called 1.-THE pro-
fame rascaD "a clipper"-with rich,
glossy. brown hair, wicked, merry,
dark eyes, lips far more tempting than
ripe strawberries in June, and fig
ure whose only fault Of it was one,
which wasn't at that age) a slight
tendency to eD,6onpOint.


The lovely young widow, after hav-
ing duly discharged her duty to the
d5funct knight by erecting splendid
marble monument over his head, on
which all his virtues were fttingly
blazo ned in golden letters. thought it
would be a correct thing to quit the
world for a brief term, and cultivate
her weeds in retirement. According
ly, to the great astonishment of the
natives-and indeed to the apparent
chagrin of the place-her ladyship
settled down in the old mansion on
the Surrey estate. And from this
event arose the circumstances that pro-
cured for Pat Callahan his first big fee
and his last.


The honest young Hibernian liGg
was sitting in his surgery one even
ing over late dinner, which consist
ed of a tough chop, potato, and a
glass of beer of preternatural thinness,
and trying to look as cheerful over
the operation as possible, when his
shop boy tapped at his glass door
Pat started at the intruder.


"Servant, sir, from the Hail."


Callahan dropped knife and fork,
started up, and rushed into the shop,
where a gorgeous funkey was stand
ing in front of the counter.


"Well, my man, what's up?'' 1t
will be seen that Pat was in. the habit
of using very unprOfessiOnal Ian
guage.


"Dr. Callahan, 1 suppose, sir p


"The same at your service, my
friend"


"Lady Hardale's compliments. Her
ladyship is very i'll and desires to see
you Immediately. 1 have the carri-
age outside and will drive you over if
you can come at once"


"All right, my man, - said Pat. 81
have only to get my hat and will be
with you in an instant"


The hat was duly brushed with the
cuff of his coat, and deposited in Its
proper place; and Pat was soon bowl
ing along in handsome open carriage
to the mansion of his handsome and
wealthy patient.


"Very illl'' ne muttered. "Why, I
saw her out riding yesterday, and she
looked to be in as prime condition as
we'll trained FLY. Huml can there
be any prospect of posthumous-
pooh not likely the alderman was
very old. A touch Of hippishness and
trihe of sham, 1 fancy; a young and
interesting widow-must do the pro-
prieties-the usual thing. Well, all
the better for me; she's good for a
cool hundred before she quits my care.
I'll order a new suit of professional
toggery at once.


Though the hall was gloomy one
enough, the room into which Pat was
ushe:ed to see his interesting patient
was a marvel of taste and luxury. The
piled carpet was beautiful in its sub
dued colorIng; the amber curtains
lent a gentler glow to the evening sun
light, for it was the spring time of the
year and in fine, the whole appoint
ment of the chamber, from ottoman
to table, from cabinet to mirror, show
ed that the artistic taste of the fair
owner was as correct as her love for
the sumptuous and luxurious was man.
ifest. On a velvet couch near the
window the patient reclined with q
book in her jewelled hand. The
daiutiest apology for widows CAP
only served to show of the profuse-
ness of her glossy brown tresses.-


The slight touch ofpallor on her cheek


only deepened the crimson on heI
full mouth, and the dangerous light


in her big dark eye. She was dress


ed in a somewhat neglgs robe of some


black material, and a rich Indian