Perceiving the necessity of doing something to disarm this female
Cerberus, before his own purpose could be accomplished, the Doctor,
reluctant as he was to encounter her tongue, found himself compelled
to invite a colloquial communication.
"You appear not to sleep, my very kind and worthy Mrs. Bush," he said,
determined to commence his applications with a plaster that was
usually found to adhere; "you appear to rest badly, my excellent
hostess; can I administer to your ailings?"
"What would you give me, man?" grumbled Esther; "a blister to make me
sleep?"
"Say rather a cataplasm. But if you are in pain, here are some cordial
drops, which, taken in a glass of my own cognac, will give you rest,
if I know aught of the materia medica."
The Doctor, as he very well knew, had assailed Esther on her weak
side; and, as he doubted not of the acceptable quality of his
prescription, he sat himself at work, without unnecessary delay, to
prepare it. When he made his offering, it was received in a snappish
and threatening manner, but swallowed with a facility that
sufficiently proclaimed how much it was relished.
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