and altered face in the glass, and then on the skin of shagreen now most wofully diminished.
Next morning saw his carriage at Dr. Thomson’s door. He was shewn into a back room, fitted up as a study. Large and learned volumes lined the sides; above the fire-place stood a row of glass phials, each containing a snake, a frog, or a lizard, preserved in spirits of wine; and on the table lay open a huge portfolio of ghastly-looking prints. Somehow or other, it was a room that gave you great confidence in your doctor:—you thought, what a clever man he must be! The patient now entered on his history. At its finish, the physician no longer restrained his reassuring smile—"I will give you my advice, though I very much doubt your taking it: enlist for six months in any marching regiment you can find, and permit me to throw this piece of shagreen behind the fire."
So saying, he took up the talisman, and was about to suit the action to the word, when Charles snatched it from him with a piercing cry, and rushed out of the house. He then directed his coachman to drive to Sir Henry Halford's. He was shewn into an elegant drawing-room; a large glass reflected the crimson colour flung on his countenance by the curtains: it was a very reviving shade. Again the patient began his narrative, which was listened to this time with the most touching attention. Sir Henry took his hand with an air of almost affectionate interest—said something about over-excitement,
