“You are in a prodigious hurry to be miserable,” said Dr. X----. “Upon my word I think you would make a mighty pretty hero in a novel; you take things very properly for granted, and, stretched out upon that sofa, you act the distracted lover vastly well--and to complete the matter, you cannot tell me why you are more miserable than ever man or hero was before. I must tell you, then, that you have still more cause for jealousy than you suspect. Ay, start--every jealous man starts at the sound of the word jealousy--a certain symptom this of the disease.” “You mistake me,” cried Clarence Hervey; “no man is less disposed to jealousy than I am--but----” “But your mistress--no, not your mistress, for you have never yet declared to her your attachment--but the lady you admire will not let a drunken man unlock a door, and you immediately suppose--” “She has mentioned the circumstance to you!” exclaimed Hervey, in a joyful tone: “then she _must_ be innocent.” “Admirable reasoning!--I was going to have told you just now, if you would have suffered me to speak connectedly, that you have more reason for jealousy than you suspect, for Miss Portman has actually unlocked for me--for me! look at me--the door, the mysterious door--and whilst I live, and whilst she lives, we can neither of us ever tell you the cause of the mystery. All I can tell you is, that no lover is in the case, upon my honour--and now, if you should ever mistake curiosity in your own mind for jealousy, expect no pity from me.” “I should deserve none,” said Clarence Hervey; “you have made me the happiest of men.” “The happiest of men!--No, no; keep that superlative exclamation for a future occasion. But now you behave like a reasonable creature, you deserve to hear the praises of your Belinda--I am so much charmed with her, that I wish--” “When can I see her?” interrupted Hervey; “I’ll go to her this instant.” “Gently,” said Dr. X----, “you forget what time of the day it is--you forget that Miss Portman has been up all night--that Lady Delacour is extremely ill--and that this would be the most unseasonable opportunity you could possibly choose for your visit.” To this observation Clarence Hervey assented; but he immediately seized a pen from the doctor’s writing table, and began a letter to Belinda. The doctor threw himself upon the sofa, saying, “Waken me when you want me,” and in a few minutes he was fast asleep. “Doctor, upon second thoughts,” said Clarence, rising suddenly, and tearing his letter down the middle, “I cannot write to her yet--I forgot the reformation of Lady Delacour: how soon do you think she will be well? Besides, I have another reason for not writing to Belinda at present--you must know, my dear doctor, that I have, or had, another mistress.” “Another mistress, indeed!” cried Dr. X----, trying to waken himself. “Good Heavens! I do believe you’ve been asleep.” “I do believe I have.” “But is it possible that you could fall sound asleep in that time?”