As some compensation for this second matrimonial disaster, Godfrey had

soon afterwards found himself the object of fond pecuniary remembrance,

on the part of one of his many admirers. A rich old lady--highly

respected at the Mothers' Small-Clothes-Conversion-Society, and a

great friend of Miss Clack's (to whom she left nothing but a mourning

ring)--had bequeathed to the admirable and meritorious Godfrey a legacy

of five thousand pounds. After receiving this handsome addition to his

own modest pecuniary resources, he had been heard to say that he felt

the necessity of getting a little respite from his charitable labours,

and that his doctor prescribed "a run on the Continent, as likely to

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be productive of much future benefit to his health." If I wanted to see

him, it would be advisable to lose no time in paying my contemplated

visit.

I went, then and there, to pay my visit.

The same fatality which had made me just one day too late in calling on

Sergeant Cuff, made me again one day too late in calling on Godfrey. He

had left London, on the previous morning, by the tidal train, for Dover.

He was to cross to Ostend; and his servant believed he was going on to

Brussels. The time of his return was rather uncertain; but I might be

sure he would be away at least three months.

I went back to my lodgings a little depressed in spirits. Three of

the guests at the birthday dinner--and those three all exceptionally

intelligent people--were out of my reach, at the very time when it was

most important to be able to communicate with them. My last hopes now

rested on Betteredge, and on the friends of the late Lady Verinder

whom I might still find living in the neighbourhood of Rachel's country

house.

On this occasion, I travelled straight to Frizinghall--the town being

now the central point in my field of inquiry. I arrived too late in the

evening to be able to communicate with Betteredge. The next morning, I

sent a messenger with a letter, requesting him to join me at the hotel,

at his earliest convenience.

Having taken the precaution--partly to save time, partly to accommodate

Betteredge--of sending my messenger in a fly, I had a reasonable

prospect, if no delays occurred, of seeing the old man within less than

two hours from the time when I had sent for him. During this interval, I

arranged to employ myself in opening my contemplated inquiry, among the

guests present at the birthday dinner who were personally known to

me, and who were easily within my reach. These were my relatives, the

Ablewhites, and Mr. Candy. The doctor had expressed a special wish to

see me, and the doctor lived in the next street. So to Mr. Candy I went

first.

After what Betteredge had told me, I naturally anticipated finding

traces in the doctor's face of the severe illness from which he had

suffered. But I was utterly unprepared for such a change as I saw in him

when he entered the room and shook hands with me. His eyes were dim;

his hair had turned completely grey; his face was wizen; his figure

had shrunk. I looked at the once lively, rattlepated, humorous

little doctor--associated in my remembrance with the perpetration of

incorrigible social indiscretions and innumerable boyish jokes--and

I saw nothing left of his former self, but the old tendency to vulgar

smartness in his dress. The man was a wreck; but his clothes and his

jewellery--in cruel mockery of the change in him--were as gay and as

gaudy as ever.




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