( 28 ) 



THE DOCTOR. 



It was in dark December. The day had been un- 

 usually gloomy and threatening, the sky thick with 

 heavy leaden-coloured clouds, and the barometer fall- 

 ing rapidly. All weather indications foreshadowed an 

 approaching storm. As evening advanced the wind 

 rose till it blew from the north with hurricane 

 violence ; and when night closed in, snow fell heavily 

 and was drifting into great wreaths. 



"We were gathered around the dining-room table and 

 fire. Our mother was busy with her needle over some 

 garments of the little ones now asleep in their cots 

 upstairs. The eldest son of the house was arranging 

 some of his beloved plants in his herbarium. I with 

 lead pencil and paper was copying from that most 

 precious repository of delight to us juveniles, Bewick's 

 British Birds. Our father, as was his frequent wont, 

 was playing on his violin, with exquisite feeling and 

 execution, as he could so well do. Very comfortable 

 and cosy it was, although every now and then a fiercer 

 blast than usual would shake the house as with an 

 earthquake. 



It was a little past ten o'clock when we were all 

 startled by a sudden loud rapping at the back door. 



