CHAPTER VI. TABLE-TALK. And, sir, if these accounts be true, Tadic-Talk. WHEN they were about to leave the room, Lady Penelope assumed Tyrrel's arm with a sweet smile of condescension, meant to make the honoured party understand in its full extent the favour conferred. But the unreasonable artist, far from intimating the least confusion at an attention so little to be expected, seemed to consider the distinction as one which was naturally paid to the greatest stranger present; and when he placed Lady Penelope at the head of the table, by Mr. Winterblossom the president, and took a chair for himself betwixt her ladyship and Lady Blinks, the provoking wretch appeared no more sensible of being exalted above his proper rank in society, than if he had been sitting at the bottom of the table by honest Mrs. Blower from the Bow-head, who had come to the Well to carry of the dregs of the Infienzie, which she scorned to term a surfeit. Now this indifference puzzled Lady Penelope's game extremely, and irritated her desire to get at the bottom of Tyrrel's mystery, if there was one, and secure him to her own party, If you were ever at a watering-place, reader, you know that while the guests do not always pay the most polite attention to unmarked individuals, the appearance of a stray lion makes an interest as strong as it is reasonable, and the Amazonian chiefs of each coterie, like the hunters of Buenos-Ayres, prepare their lasso, and manœuvre to the best advantage they can, each hoping to noose the unsuspicious monster, and lead him captive to her own menagerie. A few words concerning Lady Penelope Penfeather will explain why she practised this sport with even more than common zeal. She was the daughter of an earl, possessed a showy person, and features which might be called handsome in youth, though now rather too much prononcés to render the term proper. The nose was become sharper; the cheeks had lost the roundness of youth; and as, during fifteen years that she had reigned a beauty and a ruling toast, the right man had not spoken, or, at least, had not spoken at the right time, her ladyship now rendered sufficiently independent by the inheritance of an old relation, spoke in praise of friendship, began to dislike the town in summer, and to "babble of green fields." About the time Lady Penelope thus changed the tenor of her life, she was fortunate enough, with Dr. Quackleben's assistance, to find out the virtues of St. Ronan's spring; and having contributed her share to establish the urbs in rure, which had risen around it, she sat herself down as leader of the fashions in the little province which she had in a great measure both discovered and colonized. She was therefore, justly desirous to compel homage and tribute from all who should approach the territory. In other respects, Lady Penelope pretty much resembled the numerous class she belonged to. She was at bottom a well-principled woman, but too thoughtless to let her principles control her humour, therefore not scrupulously nice in her society. She was good-natured, but capricious and whimsical, and willing enough to be kind or generous, if it neither thwarted her humour, nor cost her much trouble; would have chaperoned a young friend any where, and moved the world for subscription tickets; but never troubled herself how much her giddy charge flirted, or with whom; so that, with a numerous class of Misses, her ladyship was the most delightful creature in the world. Then Lady Penelope had lived so much in society, knew so exactly when to speak, and how to escape from an embarrassing discussion by professing ignorance, while she looked intelligence, that she was not generally discovered to be a fool, unless when she set up for being remarkably clever. This happened more frequently of late, when, perhaps, as she could not but observe that the repairs of the toilet became more necessary, she might suppose that new lights, according to the poet, were streaming on her mind through the chinks that Time was making. Many of her friends, however, thought that Lady Penelope would have better consulted her genius by remaining in mediocrity, as a fashionable and well-bred woman, than by parading her new-founded pretensions to taste and patronage; but such was not her own opinion, and doubtless, her ladyship was the best judge. On the other side of Tyrrel sat Lady Binks, lately the beautiful Miss Bonnyrigg, who, during the last season, had made the company at the Well alternately admire, smile, and stare, by dancing the highest Highland fling, riding the wildest pony, laughing the loudest laugh at the broadest joke, and wearing the briefest petticoat of any nymph of St. Ronan's. Few knew that this wild, hoydenish, half-mad humour, was only superinduced over her real character, for the purpose of getting well married. She had fixed her eyes on Sir Bingo, and was aware of his maxim, that to catch him, a girl must be," in his own phrase, "bang up to every thing;" and that he would choose a wife for the neck-or-nothing qualities which recommend a good hunter. She made out her catch-match, and she was miserable. Her wild good-humour was entirely an assumed part of her character, which was passionate, ambitious, and thoughtful. Delicacy she had noneshe knew Sir Bingo was a brute and a fool, even while she was hunting him down; but she had so far mistaken her own feelings, as not to have expected that when she became bone of his bone, she should feel so much shame and anger when she saw his folly expose him to be laughed at and plundered, or so disgusted when his brutality became intimately connected with herself. It is true, he was on the whole rather an innocent monster; and between bitting and bridling, coaxing and humouring, might have been made to pad on well enough. But an unhappy boggling which had taken place previous to the declaration of their private marriage, had so exasperated her spirits against her helpmate, that modes of conciliation were the last she was likely to adopt. Not only had the assistance of the Scottish Themis, so propitiously indulgent to the foibles of the fair, been resorted to on the occasion, but even Mars seemed ready to enter upon the tapis, if Hymen had not intervened. There was, de par le monde, a certain brother of the lady-an officer-and, as it happened, on leave of absence,-who alighted from a hack-chaise at the Fox Hotel, at eleven o'clock at night, holding in his hand a slip of well-dried oak, accompanied by another gentleman who, like himself, wore a military travelling-cap and a black stock; out of the said chaise, as was reported by the trusty Toby, was handed a small reise-sac, an Andrew Ferrara, and a neat mahogany box, eighteen inches long, three deep, and some six broad. Next morning a solemn palaver (as the natives of Madagascar call their national convention) was held at an unusual hour, at which Captain MacTurk and Mr. Mowbray assisted; and the upshot was, that at breakfast the company were made happy by the information, that Sir Bingo had been for some wecks the happy bridegroom of their general favourite; which union, concealed for family reasons, he was now at liberty to acknowledge, and to fly with the wings of love to bring his sorrowing turtle from the shades to which she had retired, till the obstacles to their mutual happiness could be removed. Now, though all this sounded very smoothly, that gall-less turtle, Lady Binks, could never think of the tenor of the proceedings without the deepest feelings of resentment and contempt for the principal actor, Sir Bingo. Besides all these unpleasant circumstances, Sir Bingo's family had refused to countenance her wish that he should bring her to his own seat; and hence a new shock to her pride, and new matter of contempt against poor Sir Bingo, for being ashamed and afraid to face down the opposition of his kingfolk, for whose displeasure, though never attending to any good advice from them, he retained a childish awe. The manners of the young lady were no less changed than was her temper; and, from being much | too careless and free, were become reserved, sullen, and haughty. A consciousness that many scrupled to hold intercourse with her in society, rendered her disagreeably tenacious of her rank, and jealous of every thing that appeared like neglect. She had constituted herself mistress of Sir Bingo's purse; and, unrestrained in the expenses of dress and equipage, chose, contrary to her maiden practice, to be rather rich and splendid than gay, and to command that attention by magnificence, which she no longer deigned to solicit by rendering herself either agreeable or entertaining. One secret source of her misery was the necessity of showing deference to Lady Penelope Penfeather, whose understanding she despised, and whose pretensions to consequence, to patronage, and to literature, she had acuteness enough to see through, and to contemn; and this dislike was the more grievous, that she felt she depended a good deal on Lady Penelope's countenance for the situation she was able to maintain even among the not very select society of St. Ronan's Well; and that, neglected by her, she must have dropped lower in the scale even there. Neither was Lady Penelope's kindness to Lady Binks extremely cordial. She partook in the ancient and ordinary dislike of single nymphs of a certain age, to those who make splendid alliances under their very eye and she more than suspected the secret disaffection of the lady. But the name sounded well; and the style in which Lady Binks lived was a credit to the place. So they satisfied their mutual dislike with saying a few sharp things to each other occasionally, but all under the mask of civility. might derive either profit or amusement. In the midst of this sort of conversation, however, she suddenly stopped short. "Will you forgive me, Mr. Tyrrel," she said, "if I say I have been watching your thoughts for some moments, and that I have detected you? All the while that I have been talking of these good folks, and that you have been making such civil replies, that they might be with great propriety and utility inserted in the 'Familiar Dialogues, teaching foreigners how to express themselves in English upon ordinary occasions'-your mind has been entirely fixed upon that empty chair, which hath remained there opposite betwixt our worthy president and Sir Bingo Binks." "I own, madam," he answered, "I was a little surprised at seeing such a distinguished seat unoccupied, while the table is rather crowded." · "O, confess more, sir!--Confess that to a poet a seat unoccupied-the chair of Banquo-has more charms than if it were filled even as an alderman would fill it.-What if the Dark Ladye'* should glide in and occupy it ?-Would you have courage to stand the vision, Mr. Tyrrel?—I assure you the thing is not impossible." "What is not impossible, Lady Penelope ?" said Tyrrel, somewhat surprised. "Startled already ?-Nay, then, I despair of your enduring the awful interview." "What interview? who is expected?" said Tyrrel, unable with the utmost exertion to suppress some signs of curiosity, though he suspected the whole to be merely some mystification of her ladyship. "How delighted I am," she said, "that I have found out where you are vulnerable!-Expected-did I say expected?-no, not expected. Such was Lady Binks; and yet, being such, her dress, and her equipage, and carriages, were the envy of half the Misses at the Well, who, while she sat disfiguring with sullenness her very lovely face, (for it 'She glides, like Night, from land to land, was as beautiful as her shape was exquisite,) only She hath strange power of speech." thought she was proud of having carried her point, -But come, I have you at my mercy, and I will be and felt herself, with her large fortune and diamond generous and explain.-We call that is, among ourbandeau, no fit company for the rest of the party. selves, you understand-Miss Clara Mowbray, the They gave way, therefore, with meekness to her do- sister of that gentleman that sits next to Miss Parmineering temper, though it was not the less tyran-ker, the Dark Ladye, and that seat is left for her.nical, that in her maiden state of hoydenhood, she For she was expected-no, not expected-I forget had been to some of them an object of slight and of again!-but it was thought possible she might honour censure: and Lady Binks had not forgotten the of- us to-day, when our feast was so full and piquant.— fences offered to Miss Bonnyrigg. But the fair sister- Her brother is our Lord of the Manor-and so they hood submitted to her retaliations, as lieutenants pay her that sort of civility to regard her as a visiter endure the bullying of a rude and boisterous captain of the sea, with the secret determination to pay it home to their underlings, when they shall become captains themselves. and neither Lady Binks nor I think of objectingShe is a singular young person, Clara Mowbray she amuses me very much-I am always rather glad to see her." "Why, it is past her time-even her time," said Lady Penelope-"dinner was kept back half an hour, and our poor invalids were famishing, as you may see by the deeds they have done since.-But Clara is an odd creature, and if she took it into her head to come hither at this moment, hither she would come-she is very whimsical.-Many people think her handsome-but she looks so like something from another world, that she makes me always think of Mat Lewis's Spectre Lady." And she repeated with much cadence, In this state of importance, yet of penance, Lady "She is not to come hither to-day," said Tyrrel; Binks occupied her place at the dinner-table, alter-"am I so to understand your ladyship?" nately disconcerted by some stupid speech of her lord and master, and by some slight sarcasm from Lady Penelope, to which she longed to reply, but dared not. She looked from time to time at her neighbour Frank Tyrrel, but without addressing him, and accepted in silence the usual civilities which he proffered to her. She had remarked keenly his interview with Sir Bingo, and knowing by experience the manner in which her honoured lord was wont to retreat from a dispute in which he was unsuccessful, as well as his genius for getting into such perplexities, she had little doubt that he had sustained from the stranger some new indignity; whom, therefore, she regarded with a mixture of feeling, scarce knowing whether to be pleased with him for having given pain to him whom she hated, or angry with him for having affronted one in whose degradation her own was necessarily involved. There might be other thoughts-on the whole, she regarded him with much though with mute attention. He paid her but little in return, being almost entirely occupied in replying to the questions of the engrossing Lady Penelope Penfeather. "There is a thing-there is a thing, "And then you remember his answer: "This ring Lord Brooke from his daughter took, When this crusade was o'er.' You do figures as well as landscapes, I suppose, Mr. poetry he has suffered to remain uncultivated. Let us be thank Receiving polite though rather evasive answers to her inquiries concerning his late avocations, her lady- *The Dark Ladye is one of those tantalizing fragments, in ship could only learn that Tyrrel had been travelling which Mr. Coleridge has shown us what exquisite powers of in several remote parts of Europe, and even of Asia. ful for what we have received, however. The unfashioned ore, Baffled, but not repulsed, the lady continued her cour-drawn from so rich a mine, is worth all to which art can add its tesy, by pointing out to him, as a stranger, several highest decorations, when drawn from less abundant sources. individuals of the company to whom she proposed are said to have soothed the last hours of Mr. Fox. They are The verses beginning the poem which are published separately, introducing him, as persons from whose society he the stanzas entitled Love thing-for sketches, I think, show the freedom of art | arts, the loves and the graces, immortalized by the better than finished pieces-I dote on the first corus-graver's art, faithful to its charge of fame you shall cations of genius-flashing like lightning from the labour on this task, Mr. Tyrrel; we will all assist cloud!-You shall make a sketch for my own bou- with notes and illustrations-we will all contributedoir my dear sulky den at Air Castle, and Clara only some of us must be permitted to remain anonyMowbray shall sit for the Ghost Ladye." mous-Fairy favours, you know, Mr. Tyrrel, must be "That would be but a poor compliment to your kept secret-And you shall be allowed the pillage of ladyship's friend," replied Tyrrel. the Album-some sweet things there of Mr. Chatterly's and Mr. Edgeit, a gentleman of your own profession, I am sure will lend his aid-Dr. Quackleben will contribute some scientific notices.--And for subscription" "Friend? We don't get quite that length, though I like Clara very well.-Quite sentimental cast of face -I think I saw an antique in the Louvre very like her -(I was there in 1800)-quite an antique countenance eyes something hollowed-care has dug caves for them, but they are caves of the most beautiful marble, arched with jet-a straight nose, and absolutely the Grecian mouth and chin-a profusion of long straight black hair, with the whitest skin you ever saw-as white as the whitest parchment-and not a shade of colour in her cheek-none whatever-If she would be naughty, and borrow a prudent touch of complexion, she might be called beautiful. Even as it is, many think her so, although, surely, Mr. Tyrrel, three colours are necessary to the female face. However, we used to call her the Melpomene of the Spring last season, as we called Lady Binks-who was not then Lady Binks-our Euphrosyne-Did we not, my dear?" "Did we not what, madam?" said Lady Binks, in a tone something sharper than ought to have belonged to so beautiful a countenance. "I am sorry I have started you out of your reverie, my love," answered Lady Penelope. "I was only assuring Mr. Tyrrel that you were once Euphrosyne, though now so much under the banners of Il Pense roso. "I do not know that I have been either one or the other," answered Lady Binks; "one thing I certainly am not-I am not capable of understanding your ladyship's wit and learning." "Poor soul," whispered Lady Penelope to Tyrrel; we know what we are, we know not what we may be. And now, Mr. Tyrrel, I have been your sibyl to guide you through this Elysium of ours, I think, in reward, I deserve a little confidence in return." "If I had any to bestow, which could be in the slightest degree interesting to your ladyship," answered Tyrrel. "Oh! cruel man-he will not understand me!" exclaimed the lady-"In plain words, then, a peep into your portfolio-just to see what objects you have rescued from natural decay, and rendered immortal by the pencil. You do not know-indeed, Mr. Tyrrel, you do not know how I dote upon your 'serenely silent art,' second to poetry alone-equal-superior perhaps to music." "I really have little that could possibly be worth the attention of such a judge as your ladyship," answered Tyrrel; "such trifles as your ladyship has seen, I sometimes leave at the foot of the tree I have been sketching." "As Orlando left his verses in the Forest of Ardennes ?-Oh, the thoughtless prodigality!-Mr. Winterblossom, do you hear this?-We must follow Mr. Tyrrel in his walks, and glean what he leaves behind him." "Financial-financial-your leddyship, I speak to order!" said the writer, interrupting Lady Penelope with a tone of impudent familiarity, which was meant doubtless for jocular ease. "How am I out of order, Mr. Meiklewham?" said her ladyship, drawing herself up. "I speak to order!-No warrants for money can be extracted before intimation to the Committee of Management." "Pray, who mentioned money, Mr. Meiklewham?" said her ladyship.-"That wretched old pettifogger,' she added in a whisper to Tyrrel, "thinks of nothing else but the filthy pelf.". ་་ "Ye spake of subscription, my leddy, whilk is the same thing as money, differing only in respect of time-the subscription being a contract de futuro, and having a tractus temporis in gremio-And I have kend mony honest folks in the company at the Well, complain of the subscriptions as a great abuse, as obliging them either to look unlike other folk, or to gie good lawful coin for ballants and picture-books, and things they caredna a pinch of snuff for." Several of the company, at the lower end of the table, assented both by nods and murmurs of approbation; and the orator was about to proceed, when Tyrrel with difficulty procured a hearing before the debate went farther, and assured the company that her ladyship's goodness had led her into an error; that he had no work in hand worthy of their patronage, and, with the deepest gratitude for Lady Penelope's goodness, had it not in his power to comply with her request. There was some tittering at her ladyship's expense, who, as the writer slyly observed, had been something ultronious in her patronage. Without attempting for the moment any rally, (as indeed the time which had passed since the removal of the dinner scarce permitted an opportunity,) Lady Penelope gave the signal for the ladies' retreat, and left the gentlemen to the circulation of the bottle. Ir was common at the Well, for the fair guests occasionally to give tea to the company, such at least as, from their rank and leading in the little society, might be esteemed fit to constitute themselves patronesses of an evening; and the same lady generally carried the authority she had acquired into the ballroom, where two fiddles and a bass, at a guinea a Her ladyship was here disconcerted by some laugh- night, with a quantum sufficit of tallow candles, ter on Sir Bingo's side of the table, which she chas- (against the use of which Lady Penelope often mutitised by an angry glance, and then proceeded empha-nied,) enabled the company-to use the appropriate tically. phrase "to close the evening on the light fantastic toe.' "Mr. Tyrrel-this must not be-this is not the way of the world, my good sir, to which even genius must stoop its flight. We must consult the engraverthough perhaps you etch as well as you draw?" "I should suppose so," said Mr. Winterblossom, edging in a word with difficulty, "from the freedom of Mr. Tyrrel's touch.' "I will not deny my having spoiled a little copper now and then," said Tyrrel, "since I am charged with the crime by such good judges; but it has only been by way of experiment." "Say no more," said the lady; "my darling wish is accomplished!-We have long desired to have the remarkable and most romantic spots of our little Arcadia here-spots consecrated to friendship, the fine On the present occasion, the lion of the hour, Mr. Francis Tyrrel, had so little answered the highwrought expectations of Lady Penelope, that she rather regretted having ever given herself any trouble about him, and particularly that of having manoeuvred herself into the patronage of the tea-table for the evening, to the great expenditure of souchong and congo. Accordingly, her ladyship had no sooner summoned her own woman, and her fille de chambre, to make tea, with her page, footman, and postilion, to hand it about, (in which duty they were assisted by two richly-laced and thickly-powdered footmen of Lady Binks's, whose liveries put to shame the more modest garb of Lady Penelope's, and even dimmed the glory of the suppressed coronet upon the buttons,) than she began to vilipend and depreciate what had been so long the object of her curiosity. "This Mr. Tyrrel," she said, in a tone of authoritative decision, "seems after all a very ordinary sort of person, quite a commonplace man, who, she dared say, had considered his condition, in going to the old alehouse, much better than they had done for him, when they asked him to the Public Rooms. He had known his own place better than they did-there was nothing uncommon in his appearance or conversation-nothing at all frappant-she scarce believed he could even draw that sketch. Mr. Winterblossom, indeed, made a great deal of it; but then all the world knew that every scrap of engraving or drawing, which Mr. Winterblossom contrived to make his own, was, the instant it came into his collection, the finest thing that ever was seen-that was the way with collectors-their geese were all swans." "And your ladyship's swan has proved but a goose, my dearest Lady Pen," said Lady Binks. My swan, dearest Lady Binks! I really do not know how I have deserved the appropriation.", "Do not be angry, my dear Lady Penelope; I only mean, that for a fortnight and more you have spoke constantly of this Mr. Tyrrel, and all dinner-time you spoke to him." wretches among us. We will know what he really is-he shall not wear fern-seed, and walk among us invisible thus-what say you, Maria?" "Indeed, I say, dear Lady Penelope," answered Miss Digges, whose ready chatter we have already introduced to the reader, "he is a very handsome man, though his nose is too big, and his mouth too wide-but his teeth are like pearl-and he has such eyes!-especially when your ladyship spoke to him. I don't think you looked at his eyes-they are quite deep and dark, and full of glow, like what you read to us in the letter from that lady, about Robert Burns." "Upon my word, miss, you come on finely!" said Lady Penelope.-"One had need take care what they read or talk about before you, I see-Come, Jones, have mercy upon us-put an end to that symphony of tinkling cups and saucers, and let the first act of the tea-table begin, if you please." "Does her leddyship mean the grace?" said honest Mrs. Blower, for the first time admitted into this worshipful society, and busily employed in arranging an Indian handkerchief, that might have made a mainsail for one of her husband's smuggling luggers, which she spread carefully on her knee, to prevent damage to a flowered black silk gown from the repast of tea and cake, to which she proposed to do due The fair company began to collect around, at hear-honour,-"Does her leddyship mean the grace? I ing the word dear so often repeated in the same brief see the minister is just coming in.-Her leddyship dialogue, which induced them to expect sport, and, waits till ye say a blessing, an ye please, sir." like the vulgar on a similar occasion, to form a ring for the expected combatants. "He sat betwixt us, Lady Binks," answered Lady Penelope, with dignity. You had your usual headache, you know, and, for the credit of the company, I spoke for one.' "For two, if your ladyship pleases," replied Lady Binks. "I mean," she added, softening the expression, "for yourself and me." "I am sorry," said Lady Penelope, "I should have spoken for one who can speak so smartly for herself, as my dear Lady Binks-I did not, by any means, desire to engross the conversation-I repeat it, there is a mistake about this man.' "I think there is," said Lady Binks, in a tone which implied something more than mere assent to Lady Penelope's proposition. "I doubt if he is an artist at all," said the Lady Penelope; "or if he is, he must be doing things for some Magazine, or Encyclopedia, or some such matter." I doubt, too, if he be a professional artist," said Lady Binks. "If so, he is of the very highest class, for I have seldom seen a better-bred man.' "There are very well-bred artists," said Lady Penelope. "It is the profession of a gentleman." "Certainly," answered Lady Binks; "but the poorer class have often to struggle with poverty and dependance. In general society, they are like commercial people in presence of their customers; and that is a difficult part to sustain. And so you see them of all sorts-shy and reserved, when they are conscious of merit petulant and whimsical, by way of showing their independence-intrusive, in order to appear easy and sometimes obsequious and fawning, when they chance to be of a mean spirit. But you seldom see them quite at their ease, and therefore I hold this Mr. Tyrrel to be either an artist of the first class, raised completely above the necessity and degradation of patronage, or else to be no professional artist at all." Lady Penelope looked at Lady Binks with much such a regard as Baalam may have cast upon his ass, when he discovered the animal's capacity for holding an argument with him. She muttered to herself "Mon ane parle, et meme il parle dien !" Mr. Winterblossom, who toddled after the chaplain, his toe having given him an alert hint to quit the dining-table, though he saw every feature in the poor woman's face swoln with desire to procure information concerning the ways and customs of the place, passed on the other side of the way, regardless of her agony of curiosity. A moment after, she was relieved by the entrance of Dr. Quackleben, whose maxim being, that one patient was as well worth attention as another, and who knew by experience, that the honoraria of a godly wife of the Bow-head were as apt to be forthcoming, (if not more so,) as my Lady Penelope's he e'en sat himself quietly down by Mrs. Blower, and proceeded with the utmost kindness to inquire after her health, and to hope he had not forgotten taking a tablespoonful of spirits burnt to a residuum, in order to qualify the crudities. "Indeed, Doctor," said the honest woman, "I loot the brandy burn as lang as I dought look at the gude creature wasting itself that gate and then, when I was fain to put it out for very thrift, I did take a thimbleful of it, (although it is not the thing I am used to, Dr. Quackleben,) and I winna say but that it did me good." "Unquestionably, madam," said the Doctor, "I am no friend to the use of alcohol in general, but there are particular cases-there are particular cases, Mrs. Blower-My venerated instructer, one of the greatest men in our profession that ever lived, took a wineglassful of old rum, mixed with sugar, every day after his dinner." "Ay? dear heart, he would be a comfortable doctor that," said Mrs. Blower. "He wad maybe ken something of my case. Is he leevin' think ye, sir?" "Dead for many years, madam," said Dr. Quackleben; "and there are but few of his pupils that can fill his place, I assure ye. If I could be thought an exception, it is only because I was a favourite. Ah! blessings on the old red cloak of him!-It covered more of the healing science than the gowns of a whole modern university." "There is ane, sir," said Mrs. Blower, "that has been muckle recommended about Edinburgh-Macgregor, I think they ca' him-folk come far and near to see him."* "I know whom you mean, ma'am-a clever man But, declining the altercation which Lady Binks-no denying it-a clever man-but there are certain seemed disposed to enter into, she replied, with good cases-yours, for example—and I think that of many humour, "Well, dearest Rachel, we will not pull caps that come to drink this water-which I cannot say I about this man-nay, I think your good opinion of him gives him new value in my eyes. That is always the way with us, my good friend! We may confess it, when there are none of these conceited male celebrated Dr. Cullen's personal habits is previously mentioned. The late Dr. Gregory is probably intimated, as one of the Dr. Gregory was distinguished for putting his patients on a severe regimen. ་་ "Twa pleasant men, Doctor," said the widow, and so is Sir Bungy too, for that matter; but O! is nae it a pity he should bide sae lang by the bottle? It was puir John Blower's faut too, that weary tippling; when he wan to the lee-side of a bowl of punch, there was nae raising him.-But they are taking awa the things, and, Doctor, is it not an awfu' thing that the creature-comforts should hae been used without grace or thanksgiving ?-that Mr. Chitterling, if he really be a minister, has muckle to answer for, that he neglects his Master's service." "Why, madam," said the Doctor, "Mr. Chatterly is scarce arrived at the rank of a minister plenipotentiary." "I am no friend either to excess or to violent stimulus, Mrs. Blower-but nature must be supported- "A minister potentiary-ah, Doctor, I doubt that is a generous diet cordials judiciously thrown in-not some jest of yours," said the widow; that's sae without the advice of a medical man-that is my like puir John Blower. When I wad hae had him opinion, Mrs. Blower, to speak as a friend-others gie up the Lovely Peggy, ship and cargo, (the vessel may starve their patients if they have a mind." was named after me, Doctor Kittleben,) to be remem"It wadna do for me, the starving, Dr. Keeker-bered in the prayers o' the congregation, he wad say ben," said the alarmed relict,—"it wadna do for me to me, they may pray that stand the risk, Peggy at a'-Just a' I can do to wear through the day with Bryce, for I've made insurance.' He was a merry the sma' supports that nature requires-not a soul to man, Doctor; but he had the root of the matter in look after me, Doctor, since John Blower was ta'en him, for a' his light way of speaking, as deep as ony awa.-Thank ye kindly, sir," (to the servant who skipper that ever loosed anchor from Leith Roads. handed the tea,)-"thank ye, my bonny man," (to I hae been a forsaken creature since his death-0 the page who served the cake)-"Now, dinna, ye the weary days and nights that I have had !—and the think, Doctor," (in a low and confidential voice,) weight on the spirits-the spirits, Doctor!-though I "that her leddyship's tea is rather of the weakliest-canna say I hae been easier since I hae been at the water bewitched, I think-and Mrs. Jones, as they Wall than even now-if I kend what I was awing ye ca' her, has cut the seedcake very thin?" for elickstir, Doctor, for it's done me muckle heart's good, for-by the opening of my mind to you." "It is the fashion, Mrs. Blower," answered Dr. Quackleben; "and her ladyship's tea is excellent. Fie, fie, ma'am," said the Doctor, as the widow But your taste is a little chilled, which is not uncom-pulled out a seal-skin pouch, such as sailors carry tomon at the first use of the waters, so that you are not bacco in, but apparently well-stuffed with bank-notes, sensible of the flavour-we must support the system "Fie, fie, madam-I am no apothecary-I have my -reinforce the digestive powers-give me leave- diploma from Leyden-a regular physician, madam, you are a stranger, Mrs. Blower, and we must take the elixir is heartily at your service; and should care of you-I have an elixir which will put that mat- you want any advice, no man will be prouder to aster to rights in a moment.' sist you than your humble servant.' So saying, Dr. Quackleben pulled from his pocket a small portable case of medicines-"Catch me without my tools," he said, "here I have the real useful pharmacopoeia-the rest is all humbug and hard names-this little case, with a fortnight or month, spring and fall, at St. Ronan's Well, and no one will die till his day come." Thus boasting, the Doctor drew from his case a large vial or small flask, full of a high-coloured liquid, of which he mixed three tea-spoonfuls in Mrs. Blower's cup, who, immediately afterwards, allowed that the flavour was improved beyond all belief, and that it was "vera comfortable and restorative indeed." "Will it not do good to my complaints, Doctor?" said Mr. Winterblossom, who had strolled towards them, and held out his cup to the physician. "I by no means recommend it, Mr. Winterblos80m," said Dr. Quackleben, shutting up his case with great coolness; " your case is oedematous, and you treat it your own way-you are as good a physician es I am, and I never interfere with another practitioner's patient." Well, Doctor," said Winterblossom, "I must wait till Sir Bingo comes in-he has a hunting-flask usually about him, which contains as good medicine as yours to the full." "You will wait for Sir Bingo some time," said the Doctor; "he is a gentleman of sedentary habits-he has ordered another magnum.' “Sir Bingo is an unco name for a man o' quality, dinna ye think sae, Dr. Cock lehen ?" said Mrs. Blower. "John Blower, when he was a wee bit in the wind's eye, as he ca'd it, puir fallow-used to sing a sang about a dog they ca'd Bingo, that suld hae beLanged to a farmer." I am sure I am muckle obliged to your kindness, Dr. Kickalpin," said the widow, folding up her pouch; "this was puir John Blower's spleuchan, as they ca it-I e'en wear it for his sake. He was a kind man, and left me comfortable in warld's gudes; but comforts hae their cumbers,--to be a lone woman is a sair weird, Dr. Kittlepin." Dr. Quackleben drew his chair a little nearer that of the widow, and entered into a closer communication with her, in a tone doubtless of more delicate consolation than was fit for the ears of the company at large. One of the chief delights of a watering-place is, that every one's affairs seem to be put under the special surveillance of the whole company, so that, in all probability, the various flirtations, liaisons, and so forth, which naturally take place in the society, are not only the subject of amusement to the parties engaged, but also to the lookers on; that is to say, generally speaking, to the whole community, of which for the time the said parties are members. Lady Penelope, the presiding goddess, of the region, watchful over all her circle, was not long of observing that the Doctor seemed to be suddenly engaged in close communication with the widow, and that he had even ventured to take hold of her fair plump hand, with a manner which partook at once of the gallant suitor, and of the medical adviser. "For the love of Heaven," said her ladyship, "who can that comely dame be, on whom our excellent and learned Doctor looks with such uncommon regard ?" "Fat, fair, and forty," said Mr. Winterblossom; "that is all I know of her a mercantile person." "A carrack, Sir President," said the chaplain, "richly laden with colonial produce, by name the "Our Bingo is but a puppy yet, madam-or if a Lovely Peggy Bryce-no master the late John Blowdog, he is a sad dog," said Mr. Winterblossom, ap-er of North Leith having pushed off his boat for the plauding his own wit, by one of his own inimitable Stygian Creek, and left the vessel without a hand on smiles. board.' "Or a mad dog, rather," said Mr. Chatterly, "for he drinks no water;" and he also smiled gracefully at the thoughts of having trumped, as it were, the president's pun. "The Doctor," said Lady Penelope, turning her glass towards them, seems willing to play the part of pilot." A fur pouch for keeping tobacco. |