"So wondrous dull and yet so wondrous vain."
Churchill.

When Miss Henderson returned home from the party she ascertained that Markham had called; but she was not nearly so interested with the information as she would have been the day before. All the time that she was at Lord Trimmerstone's talking with the magnificent Dr. Crack, no thought of Markham entered her mind. Her only thought and all her interest were with the profoundly eloquent and prodigiously skilful doctor, by whose peculiar mode of treatment she hoped that her ma would be effectually cured of her nervousness. Soon as morning dawned, or at least soon as breakfast commenced, which might be a little after dawning of day, Miss Henderson let slip her tongue with mighty volubility on the subject of nerves, and in praise of the very agreeable, intelligent, and skilful Dr. Crack, by whose peculiar mode of treatment all nervous disorders, past, present, and to come, from whatever source arising, were immediately and infallibly cured. Mrs. Henderson, poor thing, had no faith; for she firmly believed that the doctor knew nothing about nerves, and in her mind the terms nervous and incurable were nearly, if not totally, the same in their meaning. Miss Henderson, however, had fully made up her mind that the doctor, who had a peculiar mode of healing nervous disorders, should be sent for; and it is no easy matter to manage an obstinate, favorite, clever daughter, of whose wisdom the parents have so high an idea as Mr. and Mrs. Henderson had of the wisdom of their dear Rebecca. By persevering importunity the young lady succeeded, and the doctor was sent for; and so very attentive was this worthy doctor, that notwithstanding his prodigiously extensive practice, and his incessant occupation, he came immediately. He asked the usual questions, made the usual grimaces, scribbled the usual prescription, took the usual fee, and did not immediately take his leave; but suffered all his other anxious and impatient patients to wait his time, while he entered into a learned discourse with Mr. Henderson. The little which Mr. Henderson had ever learned of classical literature at school or college he had nearly forgotten; and the little which Dr. Crack had learned he remembered quite enough to make himself disagreeable to those who having forgotten do not wish to advertise their forgetfulness to all the world. As well as he could, Mr. Henderson parried his talk, and evaded his interrogations; but the ingenious doctor did not perceive that he was making himself disagreeable, he therefore talked away till, showing his own ignorance, the worthy divine was not quite so much afraid of his learning; and then they understood one another a little better, and they talked on many other topics than those of literature, and a little acquaintance and sociability grew up between them, and many truisms and common places were uttered by them. In the conversation Miss Henderson also took her part, and endeavoured to be as eloquent as Dr. Crack; but she could not. When the doctor was gone, then were his praises loudly sounded by Miss Henderson. Then it was—

"There, pa; did not I tell you what a prodigiously clever man the doctor was? Is not he eloquent? Is not he a truly scientific man? I wonder where he comes from. I never heard of him till very lately. I think he will in time be one of the first physicians in the kingdom. Well, I hope his prescriptions will do ma good. What a very pretty hand he writes for a doctor! I declare I can almost read it. He attends a great many persons of rank. I wonder he does not get knighted; I think he will soon, he must find it useful in his profession. And he is a man of so much sentiment and sensibility. I think he is a very amiable man. Physicians ought to be amiable men. Really, there are some that are enough to make one nervous, if one was ever so strong and healthy; but Dr. Crack, on the contrary, is all amiableness and sentiment. What a very pleasant voice he has!"

The assenting interjections with which pa and ma filled up this morsel of encomium we have not thought it necessary to insert. Our readers will take it for granted, that whatever so favorite and clever a daughter as Miss Henderson should be pleased to say would not, of course, receive from her father and mother any thing short of the most unequivocal assent. That is a wise provision which makes parents look with such ingenious partiality on their own children, and which prevents them from seeing what all the rest of the world can see. It would be very painful to many parents if they could see their own children with the same eyes as the rest of the world can see them. Many are the virtues which only a parent's eye can discern; and it is pleasant, that by no logic or declamation whatever can they be undeceived. Pleasant also it is that those wiseacres, calling themselves philosophers, who are hunting after what they are pleased to call truth, should hunt eternally and unsuccessfully. Truth that is unpleasant and unprofitable, is better lost than found. There, reader, scream out at that sentence, throw the book away, and put yourself into a most pious and philosophical passion. We tell you plainly, there are many truths which you cannot find, and which would do you no good if you could; and there are truths which you might find out if you would, but you do not like the look of them, and you will not find them, but will turn away your eyes for fear of seeing truth. We are all of us more or less self-deceivers. Miss Henderson, perhaps, was somewhat more so than the average; she carried the system almost to perfection. It was her will and pleasure to think Dr. Crack a most truly skilful and intelligent physician; and how should she know any thing about the matter? In this fancy, however, she copied from many much wiser than herself, who think that they who know nothing about physic should know who and who are good physicians.

Dr. Crack now had the honor and happiness of reckoning Mrs. Henderson among his nervous patients; and his visits were remarkably long, considering how many patients he had. Mr. Henderson was a person very much to the taste of Dr. Crack, who gloried in celebrity. Never was he so happy as when he was able to claim acquaintance with those of whom the world talked loudly. And when Mr. Henderson found that the pompous and swelling doctor was not quite such a prodigy of literature as he had at their first interview affected to be, he conversed with him more freely and more agreeably. So it came to pass, that the doctor in a very short time became a regular acquaintance of the family. Never was Miss Henderson out of the way when the doctor's visits were at all anticipated; and thus there was a little compensation afforded for the apparent loss of Horatio Markham.

All this while Markham did not discontinue his visits, but made them shorter and fewer, and was very shy of sentimentality. As yet he was not aware of the visits and intimacy of the ingenious and celebrated Dr. Crack, nor was he at all acquainted with the fact of a rival so happily and opportunely taking his place in Miss Henderson's affections. Perhaps Miss Henderson herself was not aware another transfer of her affections was quite so near at hand, as was really the fact. Miss Henderson did not wish to behave unhandsomely to Markham, and at the same time did not wish to behave unhandsomely to herself. But as the young lady was very good-natured and ardent in her expressions, especially those of commendation and approbation; and as the celebrated Dr. Crack had as high an opinion of his own literary acquirements and profound general wisdom, and superb fashionable manners, as he had of his prodigiously great medical skill; and as he was mightily well pleased with those who were mightily well pleased with him, it is very true that in a very short time he found himself so well pleased with Miss Henderson, that he began to spend much time in her company.

While thus neglecting his patients to talk sentimentality with Miss Henderson, and swallow boluses of flattery from the fair lips of the lovely daughter of the fashionable preacher, this skilful doctor inadvertently suffered his affections to be fixed, as far as affections like his could be fixed on any one, on the sentimental and scientific young lady. Notoriety was the doctor's great passion. To be distinguished in the world was in his view the sum and supremacy of earthly bliss. Through this passion might his heart be won, and by this principle might he be easily led, either to wisdom or folly as the case might require.

There are always to be found about town, great, lubberly, weak, idle men of family, with whom such men as Dr. Crack may be on most excellent terms. Such a one was Singleton Sloper, fourth or fifth cousin of Lord Sloper. Singleton Sloper was about five-and-thirty years of age; as ignorant as it is possible for any human creature to be. He had not even received the benefit of an education at a public school; but when he was a boy, he did by means of much roaring, blubbering, and grumbling, prevail with his indulgent parents to let him go to a nice, neat, quiet, comfortable, little boarding-school for young gentlemen, where the strictest attention was paid to the health and morals of the pupils, and where the milder arts of persuasion were substituted for the needless severity of public schools. It was one of those schools to which mammas are so partial. The young gentlemen were kept so nicely, and no rude boisterous play was allowed. All the books were so prettily embellished, and the young gentlemen, instead of learning a little Greek and Latin as they do at public schools, were instructed so prettily in all the arts and sciences, that they became in a few years universal philosophers. But we must turn our attention to Mr. Singleton Sloper, who had not, we are sorry to say, profited so much by this excellent system of instruction as young gentlemen usually do. For in general it is found, that though there may be some slight lack of ideas in persons thus instructed, they generally remember some words which might be useful if they knew how to apply them; but Dr. Crack's great friend, Singleton Sloper, had even forgotten all the words which he had learned. He had certainly been very wisely taught by the interrogatory system, which answers finely in the holidays, but unfortunately as Singleton grew up he forgot it, or questions and answers were in his cranium so jumbled together, that he could not tell which was which. Those there are who may be a little surprised that the learned and eloquent Dr. Crack should find pleasure in associating with so stupid a creature as Singleton Sloper. We were astonished when we first heard of it; but the fact is, that the pleasure of an intimacy with a gentleman related to nobility was enough to counterbalance every other consideration. And though Singleton was a sottish, low-minded, and ill-looking being, yet Dr. Crack, who was a smart, spruce dapper-looking, dandy-like animal, was absolutely proud of strutting about in broad daylight with this poor, empty-headed creature. To his capacity and comprehension did the doctor endeavour to adapt himself, and with him would the doctor talk about all the vulgarities and coarsenesses of low-minded, high-born, indolent people. The doctor was really proud of this acquaintance, and to lower people would boast of his intimacy with his friend Sloper. This worthy was not absolutely cut by all of his own rank, because it was possible that in the course of time he might become possessed of large estates and great influence: but such were his low and vulgar habits, that few took much notice of him; therefore, he was accessible to plebeians. Being for his vulgar habits and coarseness of mind and manners treated superciliously by persons of rank with whom his birth gave him a right to be on terms of intimacy and feeling, that his own manners were such as could not recommend him to persons of gentlemanly mind, he was very much addicted to declaim among his vulgar associates on the pride and haughtiness of the great. Dr. Crack too, who had not found rank quite so accessible as he had desired and expected, joined in the declamation, and expressed his contempt for all kinds of pride. It was amusing enough that Dr. Crack, who had consigned to oblivion all his poor little cousin Cricks to the four-and-twentieth ramification of relationship, should turn up his nose at the pomposity and exclusiveness of persons of rank and fortune.

One day when the doctor and his high-born friend were sauntering about in Pall Mall, and watching the carriages as they drove to the British Gallery, they stopped nearly opposite to the entrance, so that they could see the persons who went in. The doctor put his glass to his eye, he might as well have put it into his mouth for any use it was to him. As he was gaping at a carriage just that moment drawing up, Singleton said, or rather drawled,

"Crack, do you know whose carriage that is?"

"Oh yes, that is my friend Lord Trimmerstone's carriage. There is the Countess I see; but who is that on whose arm the Countess is leaning?"

"That," said Singleton Sloper, "is a perfumed puppy, called Tippetson. I almost smell him at this distance. I wonder that Trimmerstone lets him be always there. He is everlasting dangling after the Countess. He is a fellow of low birth, but he has found out the art of intruding himself into better company than his father ever kept. He is really becoming quite fashionable. I should not be much surprised if he runs away with Lady Trimmerstone. It has been talked about some time."

Our readers will hardly believe us, when we inform them, that upon receiving this intelligence concerning Mr. Tippetson, our friend, Dr. Crack, immediately felt a very strong desire to become acquainted with him, and to set him down among the number of his intimates: it is however a fact. The reason for this may be found in the peculiar ambition of the doctor's mind. His passion was for fashionable society. He had heard and read of the vices and follies of fashionable life; and these being to the eye of the multitude the most prominent features in the portrait of high life, he considered them as essential characteristics of that class, and was pleased whenever it was in his power to identify himself with them. It immediately entered into his mind that it would contribute much to his own celebrity, if he should be intimately acquainted with a gentleman who should immortalise himself by eloping with a countess. Without expressing to Sloper this wish, he proposed, for the sake of consuming half an hour, to go into the Gallery and look at the company. The Gallery was very much crowded, and Dr. Crack felt sorry that he had not left word at home where he might be found: for it would be so delightful to be called out amidst so apparently splendid and fashionable an assemblage. The doctor soon found the Countess sitting on a bench, and Mr. Tippetson standing by her, and making himself as absurdly ridiculous as he possibly could. The doctor addressed himself to the Countess, and her ladyship was most gracious and condescending. Mr. Tippetson retreated a few steps that he might have room to lift his glass to his eye, and look through it at the doctor. Sloper paid his respects to the Countess, and soon retired, leaving the indefatigable physician enjoying the luxury of paying court to a titled lady.

After a few minutes' conversation about nothing at all, the Countess beckoned to Henry Augustus, saying,

"Tippetson, let me introduce you to my friend, Dr. Crack: you have heard of the celebrity of the doctor, and his fame in nervous cases."

"Exactly so," said Mr. Tippetson; and then turning to the doctor, he continued: "I am most happy in the introduction; doctor, I believe I must consult you on the subject of my nerves, for I am growing worse and worse. The other day, when I was setting my watch by the clock at the Horse Guards, an old acquaintance, presuming on his intimacy, gave me a violent slap on the shoulders, and positively I almost fainted. I could not recover my strength all the rest of the day; and when I was endeavouring to raise a glass of claret to my lips, my hand trembled so that I spilled the wine, and so I was betrayed into taking a second glass; a piece of intemperance, of which I am not often guilty."

The doctor listened very attentively and patiently to this pathetic statement of the melancholy case of poor Mr. Tippetson, and shook his head, and said, "Indeed!" That is quite as much as any doctor can do or say gratuitously. Mr. Tippetson then continued,

"Doctor, are you of opinion that nervousness is contagious?"

"There are many opinions on that subject," replied the doctor. "I hardly can presume to set up my opinion against so many great names: though I have been successful in many nervous cases."

This did not answer the young gentleman's question; but it answered the doctor's purpose, which was to procure a patient.

While this discourse was passing between the two gentlemen in the audience, and to the edification of the Countess, Miss Henderson made her appearance in company with her eloquent "pa." The whole group were happy in the meeting, and many compliments passed on all sides. Miss Henderson had not seen Mr. Tippetson since that magnanimous resignation of all claim upon his affection in favor of Clara Rivolta. This, their first meeting since the great event, might be supposed probably full of deep interest and emotion, if not to Mr. Tippetson, at least to Miss Henderson; but it was really no such thing. Such was the philosophical conformation of that young lady's mind, that she met Mr. Tippetson with most perfect composure; and such was the ingratitude of Henry Augustus Tippetson, that he thought nothing of the great sacrifice which she had made for his welfare and happiness. There was much volubility of talk between the parties, greatly to the edification and satisfaction of the talkers. Very kind and considerate was it in these fashionable people that they talked so loudly and so long, with a view no doubt to the illumination and instruction of all in the room. Mr. Tippetson conducted the Countess to her carriage, after having made an appointment for a consultation with Dr. Crack on the subject of nervousness.