tle, 'Nelly Bligh shuts her eye
when she goes to sleep'; and then I followed her example."

"I only wish," said I, "that there was any good office beside that I
could do you."

"Well, now I think of it, there is one that I should be very much
obliged to you to do, to me and Nelly Fader besides. I've got to hurry
off in the direction opposite to her Uncle Wardour's; and you talked of
walking. Take this paper. Empty it into a wine-bottle. Fill it up with
spring-water. Cork it. Gum these directions on it. Take them to Nelly.
Read them to her, and make her understand them if you can, and follow
them, which I can't. I happen to have a better sample of the drug than
is often in the market; and she may as well have the benefit of it. Her
aunt's a goose, and she's a baby. But, as she's likely to be a suffering
baby for some time to come, we must try to have patience, and take extra
pains with her."

"Is she going to die?" asked I, anxiously.

"No, no! I've no idea she is. No such good luck, poor little victim!
'_Only_ nervous,' as people say. I can't find out that there's much else
the matter. I utterly hate these cases. She ought to be under the care
of a sensible woman; and if there only was such a one in the profession,
I'd guarantee her her hands full of patients out of my practice alone."

"A female physician!" cried I, in horror.

"O Phil! what will you say next?" exclaimed his wife, laughing.

"Well, only wait till you're a male physician, then, and see," returned
he, jumping into his chaise, and relieving his own nerves with a crack
of the whip, which put new vivacity into those of De Quincey.

I made ready at once, for the day was sulky. It had been weeping, and
had not yet begun to smile.

Nelly lived with her uncle, the apothecary, Mr. Wardour, and his widowed
sister, Mrs. Cumberland. As I neared the door, I heard her voice, which
was not dulcet, from the parlor-kitchen: "What's this here winder open
for?"

"It felt so close in here," was the plaintive little answer; "and the
Doctor said I ought to have the air."

"Does he think we can afford wood enough to warm all out-doors with?"

I knocked; but Mrs. Cumberland was deaf, and went on: "My sakes alive,
child! what's all this?"

"The stewed damsons."

"'Stewed damsons,' indeed!--Stewed stalks and stewed leaves and stewed
creaturs! Didn't you have faculty of yourself enough to know that they'd
got to be picked over before they went into the pot? There