But it was necessary that she should gaze at the future steadily; should not turn aside from it in carelessness or in apathy; should face it, and make the best of it.  If Jan Verner and her father were about to dissolve partnership, and the practice henceforth was to be Jan’s, what was to become of her and Amilly?  Taught by past experience, she knew how much dependence was to be placed upon her father’s promise to pay to them an income.  Very little reliance indeed could be placed on Dr. West in any way; this very letter in her hand and the tidings it contained, might be true, or might be—­pretty little cullings from Dr. West’s imagination.  The proposed dissolution of partnership she believed in:  she had expected Jan to take the step ever since that night which restored the codicil.

“I had better ask Mr. Jan about it,” she murmured.  “It is of no use to remain in this uncertainty.”

Rising from her seat, she proceeded to the side-door, opened it, and glanced cautiously out through the rain, not caring to be seen by strangers in her present attire.  There was nobody about, and she crossed the little path and entered the surgery.  Master Cheese, with somewhat of a scorchy look in the eyebrows, but full of strength and appetite as ever, turned round at her entrance.

“Is Mr. Jan in?” she asked.

“No, he is not,” responded Master Cheese, speaking indistinctly, for he had just filled his mouth with Spanish liquorice.  “Did you want him, Miss Deb?”

“I wanted to speak to him,” she replied.  “Will he be long?”

“He didn’t announce the hour of his return,” replied Master Cheese.  “I wish he would come back!  If a message came for one of us, I don’t care to go out in this rain:  Jan doesn’t mind it.  It’s sure to be my luck!  The other day, when it was pouring cats and dogs, a summons came from Lady Hautley’s.  Jan was out, and I had to go, and got dripping wet.  After all, it was only my lady’s maid, with a rubbishing whitlow on her finger.”

“Be so kind as tell Mr. Jan, when he does come in, that I should be glad to speak a word to him, if he can find time to step into the parlour.”

Miss Deb turned back as she spoke, ran across through the rain, and sat down in the parlour, as before.  She knew that she ought to go up and dress, but she had not spirits for it.

She sat there until Jan entered.  Full an hour, it must have been, and she had turned over all points in her mind, what could and what could not be done.  It did not appear much that could be.  Jan came in, rather wet.  On his road from Verner’s Pride he had overtaken one of his poor patients, who was in delicate health, and had lent the woman his huge cotton umbrella, hastening on, himself, without one.

“Cheese says you wish to see me, Miss Deb.”

Miss Deb turned round from her listless attitude, and asked Mr. Jan to take a chair.  Mr. Jan responded by partially sitting down on the arm of one.