Sinclair lingered long around the house--it seemed as if some invisible power attracted him there. From the basement there arose the grateful, savory odor of extensive cooking. 'I am starving,' said he to himself--'and they have plenty here. I will go to the door, like a beggar, and implore a morsel of food.' With feeble steps he descended to the basement, and with a trembling hand he knocked at the door. It was opened by a fat, well-fed servant, in livery, who demanded, in a surly tone, what he wanted? 'In heaven's name, give me food, for I am starving.' 'Ugh--a beggar!' said the servant, with disgust--'get you gone, we've nothing for you; master never encourages vagrants.' The door was shut in Sinclair's face; with an aching heart he crawled up the steps, and then, as if suddenly nerved with a desperate resolve, he approached the front door, and rang the bell. The door was opened by a footman, who stared at the intruder with surprise and suspicion. 'Tell your master,' said Sinclair, faintly, 'that a person is here who must speak with him. It is a matter of life and death.' The servant did as requested; in a few minutes he returned and said: 'Master says that if your business is particular you must come into the drawing room; he's not coming out here in the cold.' He followed the servant thro' the hall; and in a moment more found himself standing in the brilliantly lighted drawing-room, in the presence of a numerous party of ladies and gentlemen. His miserable appearance created quite a sensation in that fashionable circle. 'Aw, 'pon my honor,' lisped a dandy, raising his eye-glass and taking a deliberate survey of the intruder, 'what have we heah? quite a natural curiosity, dem me!' 'Oh, what an odious creature;' exclaimed a young lady with bare arms, naked shoulders, and the reddest possible hair. 'Quite shocking!' responded her admirer, a bottle-nosed specimen of monkeyism. 'I shall positively faint,' cried an old tabby, in a large turban; but as nobody noticed her, she didn't faint. The host himself now advanced, and said, sternly, 'Well, fellow, what d'ye want?--Speak quickly and begone, for this is no place for you. You d----d stupid scoundrel,' (to the servant,) 'how dare you bring such a scare-crow here?' 'I wish to speak with you alone, sir,' said Sinclair, humbly. The host motioned him to step out into the hall, followed him there, and commanded him to be as brief as possible. Sinclair told him who he was, and the circumstances of misery and destitution in which he was placed. His listener shook his head incredulously, saying, 'It is a good game, my fine fellow, that you are trying to play off; you are an excellent talker, but you will find it hard to make people believe that you are Dr. Sinclair. In one word, you're an imposter. What, _you_ a clergyman! Pooh, nonsense!--There, not another word, but clear out instantly. John, show this fellow the door, and never admit him again!'