pressed to take a further supply.  When dessert was at last on the table, he felt more at ease; his host’s genial manner gave him confidence; and he was led on to talk of his work and prospects at Cloon, of the long drives over the “mountainy roads,” and the often imaginary ailments of the patients who demanded his attendance, and their proneness when really ill to take the advice of priest or passer-by on sanitary matters rather than his own.  “But I’ll get out of it, I hope, some day,” he said, looking at Louise; “when I get a few more paying patients and the infirmary, I can give up the dispensary.”

Louise listened, dismayed.  It was the thought of succouring the poor and destitute that had led her to make the resolve of marrying their physician; and he now dreamed of giving up his mission amongst them!  He, poor lad, only thought for the moment of how he might best secure a home for his fair bride not too much out of harmony with her present surroundings.

“And are you pretty sure of the infirmary?” asked the Colonel with an appearance of warm interest.

“Well, I’m not rightly sure,” was the answer.  “I have a good deal of promises and everybody knows me, and the other man, Cloran, is no doctor at all—­only took to it lately.  Sure his shop in Cloon isn’t for medicine at all, but for carrot-seed and turnip-seed and every description of article.  But there’s bribery begun already; and yesterday, Mr. Stratton asked one of the Guardians to keep his vote for me, and says he, ’how can I when I have the other man’s money in my pocket?’”

“And where did you learn doctoring?” asked the Colonel.

“Well, I walked St. James’ Hospital in Dublin three years; and before that I was in the Queen’s College, Galway, where I went after leaving the National School in Killymer.”

“Were you well taught there?” inquired his host.

“I was indeed.  I learned a great deal of geography and arithmetic.  There’s no history taught at all though, nor grammar.  But you’ll wonder how good the master was at mathematics, and he nothing to look at at all.  His name was Shee,” went on the Doctor, now quite over his shyness; “and he was terrible fond of roast potatoes.  I remember he used to put them in the grate to roast and take them out with two sticks, for in those days there were no tongs; and one day I brought four round stones in my pocket and put them in the grate as if they were potatoes to roast for myself.  By-and-by, he went over and took the stick and raked out one of them, and took it up in his hand and rubbed it on his trousers (so) to clean it, and not a tint of skin was left on his hand.  And I out of the door and he after me, and I never dared go to the school again till my grandfather went before me to make peace.”