able tonics, which our
constitutions require. The drug is not always an evil, but the doctor is
detestable.

As Spicer drew nigh one of the great hotels in the Piazza di Spagna,
he recognized Beecher's travelling-carriage just being unloaded at the
door. They had arrived at that moment, and the courier was bustling
about and giving his orders like one whose master was likely to exact
much and pay handsomely.

"The whole of the first floor, Freytag," said the courier,
authoritatively; "every room of it. My Lord cannot bear the disturbance
of people lodged near him."

"He used not to be so particular in the 'Bench,'" muttered Spicer. "I
remember his sleeping one of three in a room."

"Ah, Mr. Spicer, my Lord said, if I should meet you, to mention he
wishes to see you."

"Do you think he'd receive me now, Kuffner?"

"Well, I 'll go and see."

Mr. Kuffner came speedily back, and, beckoning to Spicer to follow, led
the way to Lord Lackington's room. "He is dressing for dinner, but will
see you," added he, as he introduced him.

The noble Viscount did not turn from the mirror at which he was
elaborately arranging his neckcloth as Spicer entered, but satisfied
himself with calling out, "Take a chair, Spicer; you 'll find one
somewhere."

The tone of the salutation was not more significant than the aspect
of this room itself. All the articles of a costly dressing-case of
silver-gilt were ranged on one table Essence-bottles, snuff-boxes,
pipe-heads, with rings, jewelled buttons, and such-like knick-knackeries
covered another; whatever fancy could suggest or superfluity compass of
those thousand-and-one trinkets the effeminacy of our age has introduced
into male costume, all abounded. Quantities, too, of the most
expensive clothes were there,--rich uniforms, fur-lined pelisses, and
gold-embroidered waistcoats. And as Mr. Spicer quickly made the tour of
these with his eye, his gaze rested at last on my Lord himself, whose
dressing-gown of silver brocade would have made a state robe for a
Venetian Doge.

"Everything is in confusion just now; but if you 'll throw down some of
those things, you 'll get a chair," said Beecher, carelessly.

Spicer, however, preferred to take his place at the chimney, on which he
leaned in an attitude that might take either the appearance of respect
or familiarity, as the emergency required.

"When did you arrive?" asked my Lord.

"About two hours ago," was the short reply.

Beecher