"Too much! Too much what?" cried Sir Philip angrily, resenting the remark. "What do you mean, woman?" "He has been taking it now for above a fortnight, sir," said the maid. "Poor gentleman! he's in trouble, I think, and takes it to quiet himself." "What?" cried Sir Philip, but this time with less anger in his tones. "Morphy, I think it's called, sir--a sort of spirits of laudanum; and I suppose it's awful strong. Surely, poor gentleman, he ain't over-done it!" "Are you sure that he has been in the habit of taking it?" said Sir Philip. "O, yes, sir. I've often seen the bottle on the dressing-table. `Morphy: to be used with great care,' it said on the label. I don't fancy he's so bad as you think, sir." Sir Philip, still trembling with anxiety, knelt by his son's couch, to be somewhat reassured by a deep sigh which the young man now drew; and five minutes after, the doctor came in, black, smooth, and silent--a very owl amongst men--bowed to Sir Philip, and then looked at his patient. "How long has he been like this?" "I found him so a quarter--half an hour since," said Sir Philip. "He had left me an hour before that." "Humph!" said the doctor. "Any reason for thinking he would commit suicide?" "H'm--no!" said Sir Philip, hesitating; "but he has, I fear, been suffering a great deal of mental pain." "Any bottle or packet about?" said the doctor--"bottle, I should say. No strong odour existent; but it seems like a narcotic poison at work." "I found this," said Sir Philip, producing the little flask he had taken from the table. "To be sure--exactly--graduated too! My dear sir, I don't think there is any cause for alarm. He has evidently taken a strong dose; but, you see, here are ample instructions, and the bottle is nearly empty." "But he may have taken all that," said Sir Philip anxiously. "My dear sir," said the doctor, "if he had taken one-eighth part, he would not be lying as you now see him. Depend upon it, that after a few hours he will wake calm and composed, when, if you are, as I suppose from the likeness,"--here the doctor bowed,--"his father, a little quiet advice would not be out of place. It is a bad sign for a fine young man like this to be resorting to such subtle agencies to procure rest. Depend upon it, his brain is in a sad state. I should advise change." "But do you not think that you had better wait?" said Sir Philip anxiously. "I would do so with pleasure," said the doctor; "but really, my dear sir, there is not the slightest necessity, and, besides, I am within easy call." The doctor departed softly, as he had arrived; and taking his seat by the couch, Sir Philip watched hour after hour, forgetful of his own fatigue, till towards morning, when Charley turned, sighed deeply, and then sat up to gaze anxiously in his father's face. "You here, dad?" he said lightly. "My dear boy--at last!" cried Sir Philip. "You have alarmed me terribly! Why do you take that?" And he pointed to the bottle.