Dr. Percy was called in to prescribe for a sick lawyer, and from this lawyer’s conversation he learnt that Lord Runnymede was a ruined man, and that his son Lord Roadster’s extravagance had been the cause of his ruin. Erasmus determined to put Mr. Panton upon his guard, and thus, if possible, to prevent the amiable Constance from becoming a victim to her father’s absurd ambition. With this view he went to Mr. Panton’s. The old gentleman was gone to dine with his club. Mrs. Panton, in her elegant language, desired he would leave his business with her. When he had explained the purport of his visit, after a variety of vulgar exclamations denoting surprise and horror, and after paying many compliments to her own sagacity, all which appeared incompatible with her astonishment, Mrs. Panton expressed much gratitude to Erasmus, mixed with suppressed satisfaction, and significant nods which he could not quite comprehend. Her gratitude was interrupted, and the whole train of her ideas changed, by the entrance of a milliner with new caps and artificial flowers. She, however, retained sufficient recollection of what had passed, to call after Erasmus when he had taken his leave, and to insist upon his coming to her party that evening. This he declined. Then she said he must dine with her next day, for let him be never so busy, he must dine somewhere, and as good dine with somebody as with nobody—in short, she would take no denial. The next day Erasmus was received with ungracious oddity of manner by old Panton—the only person in the drawing-room when he arrived. Erasmus was so much struck with the gloom of his countenance, that he asked whether Mr. Panton felt himself ill. Panton bared his wrist, and held out his hand to Erasmus to feel his pulse—then withdrawing his hand, he exclaimed, “Nonsense! I’m as well as any man in England. Pray, now, Doctor Percy, why don’t you get a wig?”—“Why should I, sir, when I have hair?” said Erasmus, laughing.—“Pshaw! doctor, what signifies laughing when I am serious!—Why, sir, in my youth every decent physician wore a wig, and I have no notion of a good physician without a wig—particularly a young one. Sir, many people have a great objection to a young physician for many reasons. And take my advice in time, Doctor Percy—a wig, a proper wig, not one of your modern natural scratches, but a decent powdered doctor’s bob, would make you look ten years older at one slap, and trust me you’d get into practice fast enough then, and be sent for by many a sober family, that would never think of letting you within their doors without the wig; for, sir, you are too young and too handsome for a physician—Hey! what say you to the wig?” concluded Panton, in a tone of such serious, yet comical impatience, that Erasmus found it difficult to restrain a smile, whilst he answered that he really did not think his charms were so dangerous that it was necessary to disguise them by a wig; that as to his youth, it was an objection which every day would tend to lessen; and that he trusted he might obtain the credit of being a good physician if he could cure people of their diseases; and they would feel it to be a matter of indifference whether they were restored to health by a doctor in a wig or without one.
“Indifference!” cried Panton, starting upright in his chair with passion. “I don’t know what you call a matter of indifference, sir; I can tell you its no matter of indifference to me—If you mean me; for say that with God’s mercy you carried me through, what then, if you are doing your best to break my heart after all—”
Mr. Panton stopped short, for at this instant Constance came into the room, and her father’s look of angry suspicion, and her blush, immediately explained to Erasmus what had the moment before appeared to him unintelligible. He felt provoked with himself for colouring in his turn, and being embarrassed without any reason, but he recovered his presence of mind directly, when Constance, with a dignified ingenuous modesty of manner, advanced towards him, notwithstanding her father’s forbidding look, and with a sweet, yet firm voice, thanked him for his yesterday’s friendly visit to her mother.
“I wonder you a’n’t ashamed of yourself, girl!” cried old Panton, choking with passion.
“And I’m sure I wonder you a’n’t ashamed of yourself, Mr. Panton, if you come to that,” cried Mrs. Panton, “exposing of your family affairs this way by your unseasonable passions, when one has asked people to dinner too.”
“Dinner or no dinner,” cried old Panton, and he must have been strangely transported beyond himself when he made that exclamation, “dinner or no dinner, Mrs. Panton, I will speak my mind, and be master in my own house! So, Doctor Percy, if you please, we’ll leave the ladies, and talk over our matters our own way, in my own room here within.”
Dr. Percy willingly acceded to this proposal. Old Panton waddled as fast as he could to show the way through the antechamber, whilst Mrs. Panton called after him, “Don’t expose yourself no more than you can help, my dear!” And as Erasmus passed her, she whispered, “Never mind him, doctor—stand by yourself—I’ll stand by you, and we’ll stand by you—won’t we, Constance?—see her colour!”—“We have reason to be grateful to Dr. Percy,” said Constance, gravely, with an air of offended modesty; “and I hope,” added she, with softened sweetness of tone, as she looked at him, and saw his feelings in his countenance, “I hope Doctor Percy is assured of my gratitude, and of my perfect esteem.”
“Come! what the devil?” cried old Panton, “I thought you were close behind me.”
“Now, doctor,” cried he, as soon as he had fairly got Erasmus into his closet, and shut the door, “now, doctor, I suppose you see I am not a man to be imposed upon?”
“Nor, if you were, am I a man to impose upon you, sir,” said Erasmus. “If I understand you rightly, Mr. Panton, you suspect me of some designs upon your daughter? I have none.”