ett came in he made his formal
complaint, concluding with a proposal that one of two persons should
leave Huntercombe, forever, that afternoon--Mary Wells or Sir Charles
Bassett.

Mary replied, not to him, but to her mistress, "He came from Dr.
Willis, my lady. It was Dr. Mosely; and the other gent was a surgeon."

"Two medical men, sent by Dr. Willis?" said Lady Bassett, knitting her
brow with wonder and a shade of doubt.

"A couple of her own sweethearts, sent by herself," suggested Sir
Charles.

Lady Bassett sat down and wrote a hasty letter to Dr. Willis. "Send a
groom with it, as fast as he can ride," said she; and she was much
discomposed and nervous and impatient till the answer came bade.

Dr. Willis came in person. "I sent no one to take my place," said he.
"I esteem my patient too highly to let any stranger prescribe for him
or even see him--for a few days to come."

Lady Bassett sank into a chair, and her eloquent face filled with an
undefinable terror.

Mary Wells, being on her defense, put in her word. "I am sure he was a
doctor; for he wrote a prescription, and here 'tis."

Dr. Willis examined the prescription, with no friendly eye.

"Acetate of morphia! The very worst thing that could be given him. This
is the favorite of the specialists. This fatal drug has eaten away a
thousand brains for one it has ever benefited."

"Ah!" said Lady Bassett. "'Specialists!' what are they?"

"Medical men, who confine their practice to one disease."

"Mad-doctors, he means," said the patient, very gravely.

Lady Bassett turned very pale. "Then those were mad-doctors."

"Never you mind, Bella," said Sir Charles. "I kicked the fellow
handsomely."

"I am sorry to hear it, Sir Charles."

"Why?"

Dr. Willis looked at Lady Bassett, as much as to say, "I shall not give
_him_ my real reason;" and then said, "I think it very undesirable you
should be excited and provoked, until your health is thoroughly
restored."

Dr. Willis wrote a prescription, and retired.

Lady Bassett sank into a chair, and trembled all over. Her divining fit
was on her; she saw the hand of the enemy, and filled with vague fears.

Mary Wells tried to, comfort her. "I'll take care no more strangers get
in here," said she. "And, my lady, if you are afraid, why not have the
keepers, and two or three more, to sleep in the house? for, as for them
footmen, they be too soft to fight."

"I will," said Lady Bassett; "but I fear it will be n