ed her first, and then asked who was come.

"Oh, nobody of any consequence. ONLY the first patient. Kiss me again."

Dr. Staines kissed her again, and then was for going to the first
patient.

"No," said she; "not yet. I met a doctor's wife at Dr. Mayne's, and she
told me things. You must always keep them waiting; or else they think
nothing of you. Such a funny woman! 'Treat 'em like dogs, my dear,' she
said. But I told her they wouldn't come to be treated like dogs or any
other animal."

"You had better have kept that to yourself, I think."

"Oh! if you are going to be disagreeable, good-by. You can go to your
patient, sir. Christie, dear, if he is very--very ill--and I'm sure I
hope he is--oh, how wicked I am; may I have a new bonnet?"

"If you really want one."

On the patient's card was "Mr. Pettigrew, 47 Manchester Square."

As soon as Staines entered the room, the first patient told him who and
what he was, a retired civilian from India; but he had got a son there
still, a very rising man; wanted to be a parson; but he would not
stand that; bad profession; don't rise by merit; very hard to rise at
all;--no, India was the place. "As for me, I made my fortune there in
ten years. Obliged to leave it now--invalid this many years; no TONE.
Tried two or three doctors in this neighborhood; heard there was a new
one, had written a book on something. Thought I would try HIM."

To stop him, Staines requested to feel his pulse, and examine his tongue
and eye.

"You are suffering from indigestion," said he. "I will write you a
prescription; but if you want to get well, you must simplify your diet
very much."

While he was writing the prescription, off went this patient's tongue,
and ran through the topics of the day and into his family history again.

Staines listened politely. He could afford it, having only this one.

At last, the first patient, having delivered an octavo volume of
nothing, rose to go; but it seems that speaking an "infinite deal of
nothing" exhausts the body, though it does not affect the mind; for the
first patient sank down in his chair again. "I have excited myself too
much--feel rather faint."

Staines saw no signs of coming syncope; he rang the bell quietly, and
ordered a decanter of sherry to be brought; the first patient filled
himself a glass; then another; and went off, revived, to chatter
elsewhere. But at the door he said, "I had always a running account with
Dr. Mivar. I suppos