gle of it rose above all other noises, suddenly
all became hushed and still; a momentary pause succeeded, and the door was
opened by a very respectable looking servant who, recognizing the doctor,
at once introduced us into the apartment where Mr. Webber was sitting.

In a large and very handsomely furnished room, where Brussels carpeting and
softly cushioned sofas contrasted strangely with the meagre and comfortless
chambers of the doctor, sat a young man at a small breakfast-table beside
the fire. He was attired in a silk dressing-gown and black velvet slippers,
and supported his forehead upon a hand of most lady-like whiteness, whose
fingers were absolutely covered with rings of great beauty and price. His
long silky brown hair fell in rich profusion upon the back of his neck and
over his arm, and the whole air and attitude was one which a painter might
have copied. So intent was he upon the volume before him that he never
raised his head at our approach, but continued to read aloud, totally
unaware of our presence.

"Dr. Mooney, sir," said the servant.

_"Ton dapamey bominos, prosephe, crione Agamemnon"_ repeated the student,
in an ecstasy, and not paying the slightest attention to the announcement.

"Dr. Mooney, sir," repeated the servant, in a louder tone, while the doctor
looked around on every side for an explanation of the late uproar, with a
face of the most puzzled astonishment.

_"Be dakiown para thina dolekoskion enkos"_ said Mr. Webber, finishing a
cup of coffee at a draught.

"Well, Webber, hard at work I see," said the doctor.

"Ah, Doctor, I beg pardon! Have you been long here?" said the most soft and
insinuating voice, while the speaker passed his taper fingers across his
brow, as if to dissipate the traces of deep thought and study.

While the doctor presented me to my future companion, I could perceive, in
the restless and searching look he threw around, that the fracas he had so
lately heard was still an unexplained and _vexata questio_ in his mind.

"May I offer you a cup of coffee, Mr. O'Malley?" said the youth, with an
air of almost timid bashfulness. "The doctor, I know, breakfasts at a very
early hour."

"I say, Webber," said the doctor, who could no longer restrain his
curiosity, "what an awful row I heard here as I came up to the door. I
thought Bedlam was broke loose. What could it have been?"

"Ah, you heard it too, sir," said Mr. Webber, smiling most benignly.

"Hear it? To be