His thin grey hair was combed with precision over his high and massive forehead: a smile played on his lips, showing his well-preserved teeth;—and his eyes beamed with mildness—almost with meekness, as if he had succeeded, by long perseverance, in resigning himself to a profession which militated sadly against a natural benevolence of heart.
He was dressed in deep black; his linen was of the finest material and of snowy whiteness;—he wore a low cravat; and his enormous shirt-frill was prevented from projecting too much by means of a diamond pin that could not have cost less than fifty guineas.
The middle finger of his right hand was adorned with a ring of equal value; and a massive chain with a bunch of gold seals depended from his fob.
We should have observed that the Doctor wore black silk stockings and shoes—it being evening; and we have every cause to believe that the reader may now form a tolerably accurate idea of that gentleman’s personal appearance.
Leaning forward as he walked, and with a kind of mincing gait—half familiar, and half obsequious—Dr. Swinton advanced towards the visitors, only one of whom rose at his approach;—and this was Mr. Smithson, the elder of the two. The other remained in an apparent state of apathetic laziness on the sofa, where he had taken his seat.
“Your most obedient, Mr. Smithson,” said the Doctor, proffering his hand to the individual whom he thus addressed. “This is your friend Mr. Granby, I presume—the gentleman of whom you made mention when you honoured me with a visit this morning.”
“Yes. Doctor—that is indeed my unfortunate friend Granby,” responded Smithson, drawing the physician into the window-recess, and speaking in a whisper.
“He is a fine, handsome young man,” observed the mad-doctor, glancing towards the subject of his remark, and likewise adopting a low tone. “What a pity it is!” he added, turning towards Mr. Smithson, and placing his fore-finger significantly to his forehead.
“A thousand—thousand pities, Doctor!” was the reply, delivered in a mournful voice. “Such a splendid intellect to be thus clouded!—such a genius to be thus crushed—annihilated!”
“No—do not anticipate such a calamity,” hastily interposed the physician. “Rather let us hope that a judicious system—my system, Mr. Smithson—will eventually succeed in effecting a cure. But have you the regular certificates, my dear sir?—because you are well aware that a heavy responsibility rests upon gentlemen of my profession, who receive patients——”