rather shabby of me, I acknowledge; but I liked you and thought you were a capital fellow, and I wanted your company, and the only way I could get you was to make you my doctor."
Chessingham said nothing. He could not reproach a dying man, but his stern face spoke volumes.
"And you are one of the most honest fellows in the world. Don't think I disbelieve in honesty. I believe in a great many good things. I even believe in a Great First Cause. I have only followed the natural law: those that have been good to me, I have been good to—and those that have n't been good to me, I have taken the liberty of paying off in this world, for fear that by some hocus-pocus they might sneak out of punishment in the next."
"I want to say one thing to you," said Chessingham. "I never have considered you a bad man. But your virtues are not common virtues, and your faults are not common faults."
"Thank you, my dear fellow. It is true, I never could strike the great vein of common-place in anything."
Then there was a pause. Mr. Romaine, though evidently suffering, yet continued to
