"Have you got the carpet-bag, doctor? and the little brown bundle?
and the russet-trunk? and the umberil? and the demi-john, and the red
band-box, with my best cap in it? one--two--three--four; yes--that's all
right. Now, mind those thievish porters. Goodness, how they charge here
for carriage hire! I never knew, before, how much money it took to
journey. Oh dear! I wonder if Harry _is_ worse? There now, doctor,
you've put your foot right straight through that band-box. Now, where,
for the land's sake, are my spectacles? 'Tisn't possible you've left
them behind? I put them in the case, as you stood there in the chayna
closet, drinking your brandy and water, and asked you to put them in
your side-pocket, because my bag was full of orange-peels, scissors,
camphor, peppermint-drops, and seed-cakes. I wouldn't have left 'em for
any money. Such a sight of trouble as it was to get them focussed right
to my eyes. How _could_ you, doctor, be so blundering? I declare it is
enough to provoke a saint."
"If that's the case, there's no immediate call for _you_ to get vexed,"
said the doctor, tartly.
* * * * *
"Is that the house?" asked the old lady, her curiosity getting the
better of her indignation; "what a big hotel! I wonder if Harry _is_
worse? Mercy me, I'm all of a quiver. I wonder if they will take us
right into the drawing-room? I wonder if there's many ladies in it--my
bonnet is awfully jammed: beside, I'm so powdered with dust, that I look
as if I had had an ash barrel sifted over me. Doctor! doctor! don't go
on so far ahead. It looks awk'ard, as if I had no protector."
* * * * *
"How's Harry?" said the doctor, to a white-jacketted waiter, who stood
gossipping on the piazza steps with a comrade.
"Funny old chap!" said the waiter, without noticing the doctor's query;
"I say, Bill, look how his hair is cut!"
"'Taint hair," said Tom, "it is a wig."
"Bless my eyes! so it is; and a red one, too! Bad symptoms; red wigs
are the cheapest; no extra fees to be got out of _that_ customer, for
blacking boots and bringing hot beafsteaks. Besides, just look at his
baggage; you can always judge of a traveler, Bill, by his trunks; it
never fails. Now, _I_ like to see a trunk thickly studded with brass
nails, and covered with a linen overall; then I know, if it is a lady's,
that there's diamond rings inside, and plenty of cash; if 'tis a
gentleman's, that he knows how to order sherry-cobblers in the forenoon,
and a bottle of old wine or two with his dinner; and how to fee the
poor fellow who brings it, too, who lives on a small salary, with large
expectations."
"How's Harry?" thundered the doctor again, (after waiting what he
considered a reasonable time for an answer,) "or if _you_ are too lazy
to tell, you whiskered jackanapes, go call your employer."
The word "employer" recalled the rambling waiter to his senses, and
great was his consternation on finding that "the old chap with the red
wig" was the father of young Mr. Hall, who was beloved by everything in
the establishment, down to old Neptune the house-dog.
"I told you so," said the doctor, turning to his wife; "Harry's no
better--consultation this morning--very little hope of him;--so much
for _my_ not being here to prescribe for him. Ruth shouldered a great
responsibility when she brought him away out of reach of _my_ practice.
You go into that room, there, Mis. Hall, No. 20, with your traps and
things, and take off your bonnet and keep quiet, while I go up and see
him."