veral urgent visits to make." Thus had
Dr. Jodon spoken to Mademoiselle Marguerite; and yet, when he left the
Hotel de Chalusse, after assuring himself that Casimir would have some
straw spread over the street, the doctor quietly walked home. The visits
he had spoken of merely existed in his imagination; but it was a part of
his role to appear to be overrun with patients. To tell the truth,
the only patient he had had to attend to that week was a superannuated
porter, living in the Rue de la Pepiniere, and whom he visited twice a
day, for want of something better to do. The remainder of his time
was spent in waiting for patients who never came, and in cursing the
profession of medicine, which was ruined, he declared, by excessive
competition, combined with certain rules of decorum which hampered young
practitioners beyond endurance.

However, if Dr. Jodon had devoted one-half of the time he spent in
cursing and building castles in the air to study, he might have,
perhaps, raised his little skill to the height of his immense ambition.
But neither work nor patience formed any part of his system. He was
a man of the present age, and wished to rise speedily with as little
trouble as possible. A certain amount of display and assurance, a little
luck, and a good deal of advertising would, in his opinion, suffice to
bring about this result. It was with this conviction, indeed, that he
had taken up his abode in the Rue de Courcelles, situated in one of the
most aristocratic quarters of Paris. But so far, events had shown his
theory to be incorrect. In spite of the greatest economy, very cleverly
concealed, he had seen the little capital which constituted his entire
fortune dwindle away. He had originally possessed but twenty thousand
francs, a sum which in no wise corresponded with his lofty pretensions.
He had paid his rent that very morning; and he could not close his eyes
to the fact that the time was near at hand when he would be unable to
pay it. What should he do then? When he thought of this contingency,
and it was a subject that filled his mind to the exclusion of all other
matters, he felt the fires of wrath and hatred kindle in his soul. He
utterly refused to regard himself as the cause of his own misfortunes;
on the contrary, following the example of many other disappointed
individuals, he railed at mankind and everything in general--at
circumstances, envious acquaintances, and enemies, whom he certainly did
not poss