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DR. WINSCOMBE'S SACRIFICE, 13 Sr. Winscombe’s Sacrifice. BT MBS. JANE G. AUSTIN. “But doctor, dear Sear doctor, what are we to do without you ? Mamma will die a thousand times over; and I never shall know whether I am really ill or making believe, without you to assure me of the latter." The doctor looked pleased, and adjusting nis f ’old-bowed glasses, took a smiling survey of the ovely speaker, with her great violet-blue eyes, and maze of sunny hair, and skin of cream and roses, and rounded beauty of form. “But I have procured a successor, a charming" 1 young man, and as skilful as charming." «• I here solemnly register a vow of everlasting hatred against this accomplished youth. What is his name ?” “ Bobert Winscombe, and he isn’t such a.youth as you seem to think. Fully thirty, I should say, and a very manly,'handsome fellow." “Is he married^doctor?” asked a frail, sweet voice, as a hand, like a moonbeam, put aside a lace drapery, screening a couch, in one corner. “Oh, mamma, are you .wake!” exclaimed Milliceut, running to arrange the dainty dra peries. “And did you hear wliSt this dear, horrid, old thing has been saying?” “ Yes, and I was so grieved I couldn’t speak, at first,” said the invalid, plaintively. “How could you do it, doctor ? But is he married ?” “ No, that is, I never asked him ; but he men tioned that his only family was a sister, who keeps house for him; and he expects a younger brother, by-aud-hy. I suppose, by that, he’s not married.” “ I’ll treat him horribly,” cned Millicent. It was tlie third day after this, that Millicent, dreaming in her hammock, under shelter of the vine-clad verandah, .heard the /amilinr roll of the doctor’s buggy upon the ravelled drive, below. In a few minutes more, he had mounted the steps, and presented himself inside the wall "jraWfiySfcSSfli* Batolpbe." Millicent started from her recumbent position, or rather tried to do so; for to rise gracefully and suddenly from a hammock, is rather a diffi- cult feat, as Milly proved; for alas 1 the long slender heel of her French slipper got entangled in the meshes of the hammock, and as she sprang up, tripped her so suddenly and violently, that she fell forward. As Blie fell, she struck her head against a croquet mallet, that had been oarelessty left lying upon the floor, receiving a wound sufficient to stun her for some moments. When Jhe blue eyes next unclosed, their half- conscious and dreamy gaze settled upon a strong, dark face, bending over her, the gray eyes full of watchful interest, the stern mouth breaking into an evidently unaccustomed smile. _. “You are better,” said this vision, quietly; •and Milly, closing her eyes, heard again and again the brief phrase, reverberating, as it seemed, through vast reaches of echoing ’Space, 44 you are better, you are belterand then •down, down through, those dark, endless spaces, slid the swooning sense, and all was silence. _ Later on, she woke again, to find herself lying on the bed in her own pretty bedroom, while her mother, and a maid, and Dr. Wetherhee, stood around her; and straight and silent as a sentinel, at the foot of the bed, was the athletic form, and the grave, kind face, for which, half- consciously, she looked. ... . A wan smile flitted across her lips, and very softlv she whispered: “ Yes, I am better, now.” Dr. Winscombe smiled again, and came for ward, with a soothing draught, he had been pre paring. Then the room was darkened; and the invalid left to solitude and repose. But the repose would not come. For some five minutes, she lay, silent; then springing 1 from the bed, she staggered to the mirror, and * gazed feverishly at her own image. The fluffy golden curls, deluged with water and cologne, had been ruthlessly dragged back, and lay clumped, in wet-darkened masses. A great blue .swelling, upon one temple, was crested by a deep cut. Pallid cheeks, and drawn and haggard features, and violet shadows beneath the eyes, all proved the severity of the late shock; and Milly. clinging to the toilet-table lest she should .fall, contemplated the image, in stern disap- ^ 44 A hideous monster, nothing less." said she, mlond, and then crept back to bed, and cned dierself to sleep. and so slid quietiy into the position of daily visitor; for before Milly was qnite recovered, her mother, upset by the worry and fatigue her daughter’s accident, fell into one of her nervous crises ; and the new doctor found his skill and patience, not to mention his amiability, severely taxed. Summer waned into autumn, and although Mrs. Batolpbe was better, it had become so strong a habit of the doctor’s horse to turn in at the great iron gates of the Batolpbe place, that he seldom resisted it; and the delicate and nervous invalid fanciel that some access of vigor and calm came to her with his presence. Not infrequently, she prevailed upon him to stay for dinner, or tea, nr at least to take a biscuit. “ By the bye.” said Mrs. Batolpbe, one day, to Millic-nt,‘“you ought to call on the doctor's sister. Go, dear, and ask her to tea.” So Millicent went. But while unlatching the doctor’s garden-gate, she heard a quick, strong step behind her, that sent the blood tingling to her cheeks, and made the warm white fingers so clumsy over the latch, that another hand took latch, and fingers, and all into its brown, firm grasp, while a voice Millyku ew, so well, ah 1 so well, said, blithely: “ Let me 1 You are coming in ?” “Yes,” replied the girl, forcing herself to speak calmly, as a young lady speaking to a friend ought to speak, uud raising her eyes, though not qnite to the level of his own; add ing. “ Yes. I am going to call upon Miss Winscombe. I thought these were your office-hours.” 44 They are. I was called home, suddenly.” There was something peculiar about him, to day; but what was it? His look, the one look she had dared to meet, was burning aud eloquent with—ah, what? Was it love? Did ho love her ? If so, why had he never said it, except in some half-dozen glances, and in this, the most fervent of all ? Aud his voice 1 She, who kuew iis every tone so well, she could not mistake thit thrill, that caressing vibration, almost a kiss, in which he had spoken thnso last words. And the air cf intense, yet subdued excitement, pervading his whole manner—what did that mean? Millicent had not answered one of these questions, when she found herself standing in the middle of the low-ceiled, sunny parlor, with the doctor holding both hands, and looking straight into her face, which before that gaze, drooped, and drooped like a flower, upon whose heart the sun gazes too pitilessly. What did he read there ? Heaven knows. But releasing the. little hands, that were almost crushed by that iron grasp, he suddenly dashed his clenched fist against his forehead. “God forgive me 1” he groaned. “God for give me 1” Then, snatching her hand, he said, 44 But, promise you will never hate me I” 44 Hate you 1” murmured she, in soft incred ulity, yet puzzled inexpressibly by his words and manner, so contradictory. 44 Millicent,,” he pursued, in an agitated voice, look around this rootn, and tell me what I may give you—some - memento of this visit, this strange, strange visit.” “ Why strange ?” demanded the girl, a touch of womanly pride beginning now to struggle through her agitation. “Why? Who can tell why?” replied he, vaguely. 44 But choose. Wuat will you have ? Something you must take—something to mark this day.” 44 Then, it shall he this,” exclaimed Millicent, carried away by what spirit she kuew not; aud snatching from the table an engraving of the Crucifixion, that lav there, in an open portfolio. Bobert Winscombe took the picture from her hand, looked a^ it, aud turned ghastly pale. Then, returning it, he said, very quietly: 44 You could not have chosen better. Wait Let me write the date upon the back.” He did this, and folded the picture in a bit of paper, tying it methodically with card. Neither of theuTspoke, or looked at each other, while he was doing this. Why, they could not tell. But there are some crises too sad for speech. Winscombe had just finished, when a carriage drove to the door. He started, glanced out at the window, seemed to grow suddenly rigid, and |Q an n/lrl >aufwa<no/1 vniAA • Thnk ia mv . an odd. restrained voice: 44 That is my brother, who has come to bring me a patient, and it you do not care to see-them, you can go through the garden, and so ont to the other street I need not apologize for sending you away. You will not mistake me.” Millicent only bowed her head, and like one in a maze, followed the doctor, as he opened a her companion, and never glanced back, so that she did not see the blithe, handsome fellow, who dismounted from the carriage, and carefully lifted down a pallid, swooning figure. 44 Well, is she coming ?” asked Mrs. Batolphe, as her daughter came languidlv into the parlor. 44 Coming ? Who ?” asked Millicent, dreamily. 44 Why, Miss Winscombe, of course. Didn’t you go there to invite her to tea ? What in the world is the matter with you, child?” 44 1—I didn’t see Miss Winscombe, mamma.” “ Didn’t see her ? What can you mean ?” 44 1 will tell you, some other time,” auswered Millicent, rising. “But, just now, my head aches, and I will go apd lie down.” Mrs. Batolphe rather pettishly picked up her novel; and Millicent, in her room, sat drearily staring out of the window, seeing notliiug, hear ing nothing except that inward, inarticulate voice, whose utterauces aro so much more engrossing than the most eloquent speech from without. “ He lores me,” said the voice, 44 certainly he loves me. His eyes, his tone, his manner, all said it. But why so strange about it all ? Whv is the Crucifixion the best memento I could have chosen of tiiat visit ?’’ So went on the voice, the busy, cruel, untiring, dreary voice, telling of love with none of love’s sweet assurance and joy, of a heart given perhaps uuasked and unvalued, except as a trophy ; 44 and yet, and yet he surely loves me,” passionately broke in the voice, the voice now of wounded maiden pride. 44 1 never could have loved him, if he had not tried to win mv love.” 'When all in tho house were asleep but herself, Milliceut unfolded her picture, and falling upon her kueees, gazed long aud earnestly at it. She seemed, in that image of supreme self-devotion, of sacrifice, and of love stronger than death, to read the story of her own aud another’s life. Then she hung the picture up, close beside her bed, that her first and last look, morning and night, might fall upon it; aud so drearily un dressed, and lay down, to cry herself to sleep. Bat the next day was bright and clear, and Mrs. Batolphe felt herself able for a drive in the pony carriage. “You must be tho driver, Milliceut,” she said, “for Mouse aud Midge travel more demurely aud steadily under your hand than that of even Munuy.” Muuny was the coaohman, and was nothing loth to take the seat behind, in the rumble. “ Beally, Milly,” said her mother, when they had been driving for about an hour, 44 this is charming. But, perliapB, we’ve gone far enough. Hadu’t you better turn round ?” Millicent obeyed, but just in the midst of the manoeuvre, a dog burst yelping from the thicket, that fringed the road, and sprang at the heads of the ponies. The nuexpcctod noise and sight, frightened the nearest horse, and this terroi communicated itself immediately to the other; and getting the bits between their teeth, the tw«j set off at a breakneck pace, utterly beyonj Millicent’s power to control. Meantime, tho first mad wliiri'had unseated the stately Munuv. and thrown him into the ditch, so that he could uofi assist her. A catastrophe was imminent. But Millicent, in all her dismay, fouud time to hop* that her mother, at least, would escape with lS and limb, and to wonder for her herself, “ Will Bobert be sorry if I am killed ?" But rescue was nearer at baud than she sup posed. The master of the guilty spaniel, a long- legged, athletic young fellow, no sooner saw the mischief he had done, than throwing down hi* gun, he started across the field, reaching its opposite end, just as Mouse and Midge, putting down their obstinate little heads, prepared to bolt ronud the corner there. Taking the feuoe in his stride, he was in the middle 6f the road, as the poqies camo up. .Seizing the bridle of the nearest, he flung the horse with a quick, power ful movement, almost on its side; checked its mad career and that of its fellow; and in a moment more had both bits in his grasp, and had brought ttie terrified animals under control. 44 1 hope you are not much frightened, ladies,” he said, as the ponies stood, with steaming, panting sides, regarding him with staring ami astonished eyes. “These little rascals are quite safe now.” “Thanks—my mother—” replied Hillloent, choking bacit a sob, turning to take the poor hysterical, convulsed invalid To her arms. “ If Bob was hefe, nqw,” said the young man. half shyly. “Perhaps you know my brother, Dr. Winscombe ?” ' - “Yes, indeed, he is our physician. Oh! I wish, with all my heart, beswas here now. Poor darling, poor little mamma—there, dear, there. If I had some sal-volatile *“ I tell you