"The cousins at Quallingham may go to the devil!" said Lydgate, with

scorn. "It was like their impudence if they said anything of the sort

to you."

"Still," said Rosamond, "I do not think it is a nice profession,

dear." We know that she had much quiet perseverance in her opinion.

"It is the grandest profession in the world, Rosamond," said Lydgate,

gravely. "And to say that you love me without loving the medical man

in me, is the same sort of thing as to say that you like eating a peach

but don't like its flavor. Don't say that again, dear, it pains me."

"Very well, Doctor Grave-face," said Rosy, dimpling, "I will declare in

future that I dote on skeletons, and body-snatchers, and bits of things

in phials, and quarrels with everybody, that end in your dying

miserably."

"No, no, not so bad as that," said Lydgate, giving up remonstrance and

petting her resignedly.




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