"Really, by the side of Sir James, he looks like a death's head skinned

over for the occasion. Mark my words: in a year from this time that

girl will hate him. She looks up to him as an oracle now, and

by-and-by she will be at the other extreme. All flightiness!"

"How very shocking! I fear she is headstrong. But tell me--you know

all about him--is there anything very bad? What is the truth?"

"The truth? he is as bad as the wrong physic--nasty to take, and sure

to disagree."

"There could not be anything worse than that," said Lady Chettam, with

so vivid a conception of the physic that she seemed to have learned

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something exact about Mr. Casaubon's disadvantages. "However, James

will hear nothing against Miss Brooke. He says she is the mirror of

women still."

"That is a generous make-believe of his. Depend upon it, he likes

little Celia better, and she appreciates him. I hope you like my

little Celia?"

"Certainly; she is fonder of geraniums, and seems more docile, though

not so fine a figure. But we were talking of physic. Tell me about

this new young surgeon, Mr. Lydgate. I am told he is wonderfully

clever: he certainly looks it--a fine brow indeed."

"He is a gentleman. I heard him talking to Humphrey. He talks well."

"Yes. Mr. Brooke says he is one of the Lydgates of Northumberland,

really well connected. One does not expect it in a practitioner of

that kind. For my own part, I like a medical man more on a footing

with the servants; they are often all the cleverer. I assure you I

found poor Hicks's judgment unfailing; I never knew him wrong. He was

coarse and butcher-like, but he knew my constitution. It was a loss to

me his going off so suddenly. Dear me, what a very animated

conversation Miss Brooke seems to be having with this Mr. Lydgate!"

"She is talking cottages and hospitals with him," said Mrs.

Cadwallader, whose ears and power of interpretation were quick. "I

believe he is a sort of philanthropist, so Brooke is sure to take him

up."

"James," said Lady Chettam when her son came near, "bring Mr. Lydgate

and introduce him to me. I want to test him."

The affable dowager declared herself delighted with this opportunity of

making Mr. Lydgate's acquaintance, having heard of his success in

treating fever on a new plan.

Mr. Lydgate had the medical accomplishment of looking perfectly grave

whatever nonsense was talked to him, and his dark steady eyes gave him

impressiveness as a listener. He was as little as possible like the

lamented Hicks, especially in a certain careless refinement about his

toilet and utterance. Yet Lady Chettam gathered much confidence in

him. He confirmed her view of her own constitution as being peculiar,

by admitting that all constitutions might be called peculiar, and he

did not deny that hers might be more peculiar than others. He did not

approve of a too lowering system, including reckless cupping, nor, on

the other hand, of incessant port wine and bark. He said "I think so"

with an air of so much deference accompanying the insight of agreement,

that she formed the most cordial opinion of his talents.




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