head a great many
times, and began to cry.

'Nervous,' said Bob Sawyer complacently. 'Camphor-julep and water three
times a day, and composing draught at night.'

'I don't know how to begin, Mr. Sawyer,' said the old lady. 'It is so
very painful and distressing.'

'You need not begin, ma'am,' rejoined Mr. Bob Sawyer. 'I can anticipate
all you would say. The head is in fault.'

'I should be very sorry to think it was the heart,' said the old lady,
with a slight groan.

'Not the slightest danger of that, ma'am,' replied Bob Sawyer. 'The
stomach is the primary cause.'

'Mr. Sawyer!' exclaimed the old lady, starting.

'Not the least doubt of it, ma'am,' rejoined Bob, looking wondrous wise.
'Medicine, in time, my dear ma'am, would have prevented it all.'

'Mr. Sawyer,' said the old lady, more flurried than before, 'this
conduct is either great impertinence to one in my situation, Sir, or
it arises from your not understanding the object of my visit. If it had
been in the power of medicine, or any foresight I could have used, to
prevent what has occurred, I should certainly have done so. I had
better see my nephew at once,' said the old lady, twirling her reticule
indignantly, and rising as she spoke.

'Stop a moment, ma'am,' said Bob Sawyer; 'I'm afraid I have not
understood you. What IS the matter, ma'am?'

'My niece, Mr. Sawyer,' said the old lady: 'your friend's sister.'

'Yes, ma'am,' said Bob, all impatience; for the old lady, although much
agitated, spoke with the most tantalising deliberation, as old ladies
often do. 'Yes, ma'am.'

'Left my home, Mr. Sawyer, three days ago, on a pretended visit to my
sister, another aunt of hers, who keeps the large boarding-school, just
beyond the third mile-stone, where there is a very large laburnum-tree
and an oak gate,' said the old lady, stopping in this place to dry her
eyes.

'Oh, devil take the laburnum-tree, ma'am!' said Bob, quite forgetting
his professional dignity in his anxiety. 'Get on a little faster; put a
little more steam on, ma'am, pray.'

'This morning,' said the old lady slowly--'this morning, she--'

'She came back, ma'am, I suppose,' said Bob, with great animation. 'Did
she come back?'

'No, she did not; she wrote,' replied the old lady.

'What did she say?' inquired Bob eagerly.

'She said, Mr. Sawyer,' replied the old lady--'and it is this I want to
prepare Benjamin's mind for, gently and by degrees; she said that she
was--I have got t