But she was young—naturally inclined to look upon the bright side of things—and too inexperienced to know much of the dreadful pit-falls which the artifice of man has hollowed in the pathways of the moral world. Her misgiving was therefore forgotten almost as soon as it was entertained; and she was in comparatively good spirits—though still affected by her recent separation from her sister—when she alighted at the door of Mrs. Slingsby's residence in Old Burlington Street.
[29]. Represented as the Marquis of Holmesford in the First Series of "The Mysteries of London."
CHAPTER LXVIII.
DR. WAGTAIL.—ROSAMOND TORRENS.
Rosamond Torrens found the pious lady reclining on a sofa, and so profoundly absorbed—at all events, apparently so—in the perusal of a chapter in the New Testament, that she did not immediately look up when the drawing-room door opened to give the young maiden admission.
"Ah! my dearest girl—is it indeed you?" at length said Mrs. Slingsby in a dolorous tone of voice, as she laid aside the sacred volume. "Come and embrace me, sweet Rosamond."
"I hope you are better to-day, my dear madam," was the sincere observation made by the intended victim of a damnable plot, as she pressed her pure lips to Mrs. Slingsby's polluted brow.
"Heaven blessed me with a good night's rest, my love," returned the pious lady; "and Dr. Wagtail would insist upon my taking a little warm brandy-and-water—although, as you well know, I loathe alcoholic liquor, which I do not consider to be a 'good creature of God,' nor 'fitted for our use.' But, as a medicine, Rosamond—and when accompanied by urgent prayer—it is beneficial. And now tell me, sweet girl, how passed off the bridal ceremony? Was the conduct of my nephew becoming and proper? I could scarcely suppose otherwise—seeing that for years he has been benefited by the advice and example which it has been my happy lot to afford him. And Adelais—was she much affected, my love?"
Rosamond described the particulars of the wedding; and Mrs. Slingsby was in the midst of some very comforting remarks thereon, when the door opened and Dr. Wagtail made his appearance.
This gentleman was a short, fat, important-looking personage—with a powdered head and a pig-tail—delighting, too, in small-clothes and black gaiters, and carrying a thick bamboo cane, the gold head of which he invariably applied to his nose when he wanted to appear more than usually solemn. He enjoyed a large practice, and was yet miserably ignorant of the medical art. What, then, was the secret of his success? We will explain the mystery.