In this conviction Mrs. Quinine was fully borne out by the profound opinion, most gravely delivered, with the lady’s pulse in one hand, and his gold repeater in the other, by her medical adviser—that “dear, loveable old man,” Doctor Twaddles—who added, that unless she _would_ keep herself quiet, and refrain from making the least exertion, and could at the same time be secured perfect peace of mind at home, without being thwarted in the slightest wish—as he said this, the doctor knitted the grey, bushy brows which hung down about his eyes like a Skye terrier’s, and looked death-warrants at the husband of the lady—he would not take it upon himself to answer for the consequences. Now, Doctor Twaddles was a gentleman who had fortunately been blest with a remarkably imposing appearance. Nature had been most bountiful to the Doctor. He had an intensely “fine bald head of his own”—round and hairless as an ostrich’s egg; and this attractive exterior had been worth a thousandfold more to him than the interior ever could have been, even had it been as full of brains as every egg is said to be full of meat. Had the Doctor depended for his advancement in life on his skill, he might have remained without a patient and without a crust; but, so to speak, standing on his bald head, he had been able to drink his wine daily, although he certainly was “no conjuror.” The head, to which Doctor Twaddles owed so much, and which had won for him such a number of hatbands from departed patients, was fringed with silver, for the little hair that still lingered round it was white as driven snow. His features were prominent and statuesque. His coat, which was always scrupulously clean and dustless, was black and glossy as that of a mourning-coach horse; and he so far clung to the manners of the old school, as to allow his nether garments to descend only to his knees, where they were fastened by a pair of small gold buckles. His legs, which—to do Doctor Twaddles justice—were exceedingly well shaped, and perhaps accounted for the Doctor’s still clinging to the obsolete fashion of exhibiting them, were veiled by a pair of very thin gossamer-like black silk stockings, through which the flesh showed with a pinky hue; so that the medical gentleman’s calves, as he sat with them crossed one over the other, so as to give the foremost an extra plumpness, bore a strong resemblance in colour to black currant jam.