governor's for years, and all that sort of thing. He is very shy at meeting strangers; and, perhaps, will avoid you, or not speak to you, if you meet him. It is but right to tell you this, in order to put you on your guard; but you will now understand how matters are, if you should meet poor Tom and he should seem queer."
"Poor fellow!" said Mr. Bouncer. "I understand; and I will try not to annoy him."
Then they reached the Woodlands and had a hearty welcome from Mr. Smalls, the Squire. "You must kindly take us just as we are, Mr. Bouncer," he said. "Circumstances, unfortunately, have prevented my asking friends to meet you. We dine in an hour. Perhaps you would like to see your room?" So, Mr. Bouncer went upstairs, under the escort of a man-servant.
"How 's poor Tom?" asked young Mr. Smalls of his father when they were left alone.
"Your cousin is much worse," replied the Squire. "During the last week he has developed fresh symptoms, and seems inclined to be unruly. I think it will be needful to put him under restraint for a time, and remove him to some place where he can be properly attended to. Johnson"—this was their surgeon's name—"is quite of that opinion. He says that in these mental diseases the very kindest and wisest course to pursue is to place the patient at once under the strictest medical surveillance; and that, in nine cases out often, the disease, when thus taken in time, can be very greatly alleviated, if not wholly cured. As poor Tom's guardian, I, of course, stand to him in loco parentis; and I am bound to care for him, as I would do for one of my own children."
"Of course; Tom is one of us, and we all look upon him as a brother. What does Johnson advise?"
