The
two gentlemen pretended to be in an uproarious state of jollity, and to
hear them trying to say, "Ha! ha!" like veritable war-horses, while the
tears rolled down their cheeks, was a very instructive experience.
And now I must speak of a matter which may possibly offend the finer
instincts of a truly moral age. Mrs. Walton totally forgot matronly
reserve; she stepped up to Mr. Ferrier, and, saying, "My brave fellow"
(it is a wicked world, and I must speak truth about it)--yes, she said,
"My brave fellow!" and then she kissed him! Blair's sister, Mrs.
Hellier, was more Scotch in accent than her brother, and she crowned the
improprieties of this most remarkable meeting by giving the modest young
savant _two_ kisses--I am accurate as to the number--and saying, "My
bonny lad, you needn't mind me; I have three sons as big as yourself."
Then the battered hero was welcomed by two joyous girls, and the young
Scotch niece said, "We fairly thought you were gone, Mr. Ferrier, and
all of us cried, and Miss Dearsley worst of all." Half dazed, starving,
weary to the edge of paralysis, the young doctor staggered below, ate
cautiously a little bread and milk, bathed himself, and ended this phase
of his lesson with an ecstatic stretch on a couch that was heavenly to
his wrenched limbs. Before he sank over into the black sleep of
exhausted men, he saw Henry Fullerton's beautiful eyes bent on him. The
evangelist patted the young doctor's shoulder and said, "God has sent a
sign to show that you are a chosen worker; you durst not reject it; you
have gone through the valley of the shadow of death, and you must not
neglect the sign lest you displease the One who made you His choice.
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