"Ha! ha!—that may be your opinion, Mrs. Taylor; a quiet party does very well where one is intimate, no doubt; but I conclude that younger ladies, Adeline, and her friends Miss Graham and Miss Wyllys, would give a different verdict."
"Miss Taylor seems quite partial to large parties," said Elinor, quietly, for the remark was addressed to her.
"Yes, Adeline and her 'chum' both like plenty of balls and beaux,
I reckon."
"What has become of your patient, doctor?" inquired Miss Patsey.
"The poor man at the tavern—do you think he will get well?"
"I have no doubt the fellow will outlive half-a-dozen such fits. I left him last night under guard of two men, to keep him from hanging himself; and this morning, when I went to look after him, he was off. He was so much better, that he had been persuaded by some messmate to ship for a cruize—only a three years' whaling voyage. Regular Jack-tar fashion—a frolic one day, a fit the next, and off for the end of the world the third."
"He has left Longbridge, has he?" said Mr. Wyllys. "I was just going to inquire after him, for they have a story going about, that he used very threatening language in speaking of myself and Hazlehurst. Did you happen to hear him, doctor?"
"He did use some wild, incoherent expressions, sir, to that effect, when I was with him; but the threats of a raving man are not of much consequence."
"Certainly not. But I have no idea who the man can be; I don't know a single common seaman by sight or name—at least, the only one I ever knew is long since dead. It is singular that this fellow should have known my name even; they say he was a stranger at Longbridge."
"Entirely so, I believe."
"What was his name?"