Dr Thorne.

The name which Joe had given to his master's illness was certainly
not a false one. He did find Sir Louis "in the horrors." If any
father have a son whose besetting sin is a passion for alcohol, let
him take his child to the room of a drunkard when possessed by "the
horrors." Nothing will cure him if not that.

I will not disgust my reader by attempting to describe the poor
wretch in his misery: the sunken, but yet glaring eyes; the emaciated
cheeks; the fallen mouth; the parched, sore lips; the face, now dry
and hot, and then suddenly clammy with drops of perspiration; the
shaking hand, and all but palsied limbs; and worse than this, the
fearful mental efforts, and the struggles for drink; struggles to
which it is often necessary to give way.

Dr Fillgrave soon knew what was to be the man's fate; but he did what
he might to relieve it. There, in one big, best bedroom, looking out
to the north, lay Sir Louis Scatcherd, dying wretchedly. There, in
the other big, best bedroom, looking out to the south, had died the
other baronet about a twelvemonth since, and each a victim to the
same sin. To this had come the prosperity of the house of Scatcherd!

And then Dr Fillgrave went on to Greshamsbury. It was a long day's
work, both for himself and the horses; but then, the triumph of being
dragged up that avenue compensated for both the expense and the
labour. He always put on his sweetest smile as he came near the hall
door, and rubbed his hands in the most complaisant manner of which he
knew. It was seldom that he saw any of the family but Lady Arabella;
but then he desired to see none other, and when he left her in a good
humour, was quite content to take his glass of sherry and eat his
lunch by himself.

On this occasion, however, the servant at once asked him to go into
the dining-room, and there he found himself in the presence of Frank
Gresham. The fact was, that Lady Arabella, having at last decided,
had sent for Dr Thorne; and it had become necessary that some one
should be entrusted with the duty of informing Dr Fillgrave. That
some one must be the squire, or Frank. Lady Arabella would doubtless
have preferred a messenger more absolutely friendly to her own side
of the house; but such messenger there was none: she could not send
Mr Gazebee to see her doctor, and so, of the two evils, she chose the
least.

"Dr Fillgrave," said Frank, shaking hands with him very cordially as
he came up, "my mother is