more desponding than ever.

Dr. May, with all Henry's patients on his hands as well as his own,
had been forced to devote this entire day to his profession; but on
the next, leaving Henry to watch over Averil, who continued very
feeble and feverish, he went to Whitford, almost infected by Henry's
forebodings and Mr. Bramshaw's misgivings. 'It is a bad case,' the
attorney had said to him, confidentially. 'But that there is always
a great reluctance to convict upon circumstantial evidence, I should
have very little hope, that story of his is so utterly impracticable;
and yet he looks so innocent and earnest all the time, and sticks to
it so consistently, that I don't know what to make of it. I can't do
anything with him, nor can his brother either; but perhaps you might
make him understand that we could bring him clear off for
manslaughter--youth, and character and all. I should not doubt of a
verdict for a moment! It is awkward about the money, but the alarm
would be considered in the sentence.'

'You don't attend to his account of the person he saw in the court-
yard?'

'The less said about that the better,' returned Mr. Bramshaw. 'It
would only go for an awkward attempt to shift off the suspicion,
unless he would give any description; and that he can't, or won't do.
Or even if he did, the case would be all the stronger against his
story--setting off, and leaving a stranger to maraud about the place.
No, Dr. May; the only thing for it is to persuade the lad to own to
having struck the old man in a passion; every one knows old Axworthy
could be intolerably abusive, and the boy always was passionate.
Don't you remember his flying out at Mr. Rivers's, the night of the