“Bob,” said Mr. Allen, “will you take my aunt into the surgery?”

“Certainly,” responded Bob, in a most professional voice. “Step this way, my dear ma’am. Don’t be frightened, ma’am. We shall be able to set you to rights in a very short time, I have no doubt, ma’am. Here, my dear ma’am. Now then!” With this, Mr. Bob Sawyer having handed the old lady to a chair, shut the door, drew another chair close to her, and waited to hear detailed the symptoms of some disorder from which he saw in perspective a long train of profits and advantages.

The first thing the old lady did, was to shake her head a great many times, and began to cry.

“Nervous,” said Bob Sawyer complacently. “Camphor-julep and water three times a day, and composing draught at night.”