ll
make among the profession. There never was--and it ain't too much to
say there never _will_ be--another case like it."

During this lecture, and a great deal more, Sir Bale leaned back in his
chair, with his legs extended, his heels on the ground, and his arms
folded, looking sourly up in the face of a tall lady in white satin, in
a ruff, and with a bird on her hand, who smiled down superciliously from
her frame on the Baronet. Sir Bale seemed a little bit high and dry with
the Doctor.

"You physicians are unquestionably," he said, "a very learned
profession."

The Doctor bowed.

"But there's just one thing you know nothing about----"

"Eh? What's that?" inquired Doctor Torvey.

"Medicine," answered Sir Bale. "I was aware you never knew what was the
matter with a sick man; but I didn't know, till now, that you couldn't
tell when he was dead."

"Ha, ha!--well--ha, ha!--_yes_--well, you see, you--ha, ha!--you
certainly have me there. But it's a case without a parallel--it is, upon
my honour. You'll find it will not only be talked about, but written
about; and, whatever papers appear upon it, will come to me; and I'll
take care, Sir Bale, you shall have an opportunity of reading them."

"Of which I shan't avail myself," answered Sir Bale. "Take another glass
of sherry, Doctor."

The Doctor made his acknowledgments and filled his glass, and looked
through the wine between him and the window.

"Ha, ha!--see there, your port, Sir Bale, gives a fellow such
habits--looking for the beeswing, by Jove. It isn't easy, in one sense
at least, to get your port out of a fellow's head when once he has
tasted it."

But if the honest Doctor meant a hint for a glass of that admirable bin,
it fell pointless; and Sir Bale had no notion of making another libation
of that precious fluid in honour of Doctor Torvey.

"And I take it for granted," said Sir Bale, "that Feltram will do very
well; and, should anything go wrong, I can send for you--unless he
should die again; and in that case I think I shall take my own opinion."

So he and the Doctor parted.

Sir Bale, although he did not consult the Doctor on his own case, was
not particularly well. "That lonely place, those frightful mountains,
and that damp black lake"--which features in the landscape he cursed all
round--"are enough to give any man blue devils; and when a fellow's
spirits go, he's all gone. That's why I'm dyspeptic--that and those
d----d debts--and the post,