e you don't object to that system. Double fee the
first visit, single afterwards."

Dr. Staines bowed a little stiffly; he would have preferred the money.
However, he looked at the Blue Book, and found his visitor lived at 47
Manchester Square; so that removed his anxiety.

The first patient called every other day, chattered nineteen to the
dozen, was exhausted, drank two glasses of sherry, and drove away.

Soon after this a second patient called. This one was a deputy
patient--Collett, a retired butler--kept a lodging-house, and waited at
parties; he lived close by, but had a married daughter in Chelsea. Would
the doctor visit her, and HE would be responsible?

Staines paid the woman a visit or two, and treated her so effectually,
that soon her visits were paid to him. She was cured, and Staines, who
by this time wanted to see money, sent to Collett.

Collett did not answer.

Staines wrote warmly.

Collett dead silent.

Staines employed a solicitor.

Collett said he had recommended the patient, that was all. He had never
said he would pay her debts. That was her husband's business.

Now her husband was the mate of a ship; would not be in England for
eighteen months.

The woman, visited by lawyer's clerk, cried bitterly, and said she and
her children had scarcely enough to eat.

Lawyer advised Staines to abandon the case, and pay him two pounds
fifteen shillings expenses. He did so.

"This is damnable," said he. "I must get it out of Pettigrew; by-the-by,
he has not been here this two days."

He waited another day for Pettigrew, and then wrote to him. No answer.
Called. Pettigrew gone abroad. House in Manchester Square to let.

Staines went to the house-agent with his tale. Agent was impenetrable
at first; but, at last, won by the doctor's manner and his unhappiness,
referred him to Pettigrew's solicitor; the solicitor was a respectable
man, and said he would forward the claim to Pettigrew in Paris.

But by this time Pettigrew was chattering and guzzling in Berlin; and
thence he got to St. Petersburg. In that stronghold of gluttony,
he gormandized more than ever, and, being unable to talk it off his
stomach, as in other cities, had apoplexy, and died.

But long before this Staines saw his money was as irrecoverable as his
sherry; and he said to Rosa, "I wonder whether I shall ever live to
curse the human race?"

"Heaven forbid!" said Rosa. "Oh, they use you cruelly, my poor, poor
Christie!"

Thu