tinued Fanny, as she pointed to the letter she had been sealing, "I had even been giving myself the trouble to convey to you my condolence on your serious indisposition. It seems that I might have spared myself such useless labour."
"Dear me, no!" said the Ghost; "pray give me the valuable document, and I will see that it is duly conveyed to Percival Wilde, Esquire, who is now pining on his Oxford bed of sickness. The sight thereof will be unto him as the sight of the goddess Hygeia, and will raise him from his æger couch—æger, my dear Fanny, being a Latin word, that signifieth sick, ill, or indisposed."
"Thank you, Mr. Ghost, for the translation; and, having given me one translation, perhaps you will favour me with the explanation of another; and will condescend to explain why I am thus so unexpectedly honoured with the translation of an æger gentleman from Oxford to London." And Miss Fanny puckered up her eyes and lips, and looked unspeakably roguish.
"Certainly, my dear Fanny," replied the Ghost; "though in as few words as possible; for my time, like your own sweet self, is very precious. I was so ill—at least, not ill, but æger, you understand—that I found I must run up to town for the very best professional advice on my case. Now, we have it on most excellent authority, that the best Physician is a certain Doctor Love; so I naturally called at this house, where I knew he was to be found; and, 'Here we are!' as the clown says in the Pantomime—Physician and Patient. The Patient having stated his case, what is the advice of my Doctor Love?"
"That you immediately go back to Oxford, Sir, where
