The Doctor gave a careless glance round the room as he spoke. He certainly had things comfortable there: the paper was a dark green; all the furniture was in black oak--not Wardour Street, nor manufactured in the desolate region of the Curtain Road in Shoreditch, but real black oak, the spoil of country mansions whose owners had gone to grief, and labourers' cottages, the tenants of which did not know the value of their possession, and were not proof against the blandishments of the Hebrew emissary, who was so flattering with his tongue and so ready with his cash. On the walls hung a large painting of a nude figure by Etty, supported on either side by a glowing landscape by Turner and a breezy sea-scape by Stanfield. A noble old bookcase stood in one corner of the room, filled with literature of all kinds--for the Doctor was an omnivorous reader, and could have passed an examination as to the characters and qualities of the three leading serials of the day, as well as in the secular and professional volumes which filled his lower shelves; while at the other end of the room a huge sideboard was covered with glass, from heavy _moyen-âge_ Bohemian to the thinnest and lightest productions of the modern blower's art. "What will you take?" asked the Doctor. "Like myself, you are not much of a drinker, I know; but, like myself, you understand and appreciate a little of what is really excellent. Now, on that sideboard there are sherry, claret, and brandy, for all of which I can vouch. A little of the latter with some iced water?--the refrigerator is outside. Nothing? Ah, I forgot, you are dying for your smoke after dinner. Smoke away here, my boy; no one ever comes to these chambers who would be frightened at the anti-professional odour; and as for me, I rather like the smell of a pipe, and especially delight in seeing your enjoyment of it; so fire away." George lit his pipe, and both the men pulled their easy-chairs in front of the fire. There was an undeniable likeness between them in feature as well as in figure, though the elder man was so much more _soigné_, so much better got-up, so much better preserved than the younger. "I have been away for some time," said George, after a few puffs at his pipe; "as perhaps you know." "Oh yes, I found it out very soon after your departure, from the desolation which seemed to have fallen upon the house down yonder. Nurses and patients joined in one chorus of regret; and as for poor old Madame Vaughan, she seemed actually to forget the loss of the child she has been bewailing for so many years in her intense sorrow at your departure." "Poor dear _maman_!" said George, with a smile; "I feared she would miss me and my nightly visits very much. It's so long since I went away that I imagine I was regarded as a permanent fixture in the establishment."