"You shall, sir—you shall in time," said Heriot. "Only take courage, as Ashton says."
"Oh, how miraculous it seems," murmured the poor gentleman, as his wasted hand played with the rich brown tresses of Rose, who half knelt and half reclined beside his bed, with her eyes beaming smiles alternately on him and on her lover, Heriot; "how miraculous, indeed. Restored to life—restored to life, and to my girls—restored, after enduring, apparently, all the mental and bodily pangs of a shocking and terrible death!"
"Yes, dearest papa; it is, indeed, a debt of gratitude we owe to Dr. Heriot," said Ethel.
"For Heaven's sake, Miss Basset, don't go on this way," said Heriot. "You make a poor fellow quite ashamed of doing his mere duty."
"By what can I ever recompense you, Doctor Heriot?" said Mr. Basset; "what reward can I ever give you?"
"I think I know, sir," said the captain, winking with great mystery; while Rose, who felt a scene impending, grew pale, and trembled.
"You do?" asked Mr. Basset.
"Yes; and so does Miss Ethel—and so do we all."
"Look, papa—I think Dr. Heriot will consider this the most valued fee you can give him," said Ethel, as she playfully put Rose's right hand in that of the doctor, who reddened to the roots of his hair, and, for a brave and sensible fellow, really looked very foolish.
Mr. Basset stared at them all round in perplexity; then, as a sudden light seemed to break in upon him, he smiled, and said: