Geoffery GambadoA Simple Remedy for Hypochondriacism and Melancholy Splenetic Humours
nothing must disturb me. Oh! Doctor, I fear I never shall marry. My intended is very careful over me. She has come up, all the way to town with me, as my nurse; and is now in my carriage at your door."

"Dear me, sir! why did you not tell me this before? It is actually necessary that I should see your good nurse, and have a few minutes' conversation with her. I am so glad you have brought her; it gives me the greatest hope that I may be able to effect a cure."

The Doctor rang the bell. "Samuel, request the lady in the carriage to step into the house. Show her into the drawing-room. With your permission, Sir Nicholas, I will speak to her myself concerning your treatment?"

The Doctor was expecting to see an elegant, lady-like woman, something slender, and answering to the attenuated gentility of the being in whom "hope deferred, evidently made the heart sick."

What was his astonishment when he beheld a blooming, buxom, short, fat, merry-looking lass! with a face that sorrow seemed never to have smitten. She wore a large hat and feathers; such a profusion of rich brown hair, sweeping down her back, as would have made the Lord Chancellor the finest wig in the land.

It is needless to relate the conversation. The Doctor soon found that she was desirous of becoming Lady Nicholas Skinner, and very soon settled the matter with great adroitness.

"He must ride on horseback! You must make him do so. There is nothing the matter with him, but over anxiety to be better; and it is all in your hands. You, and you only, have the power of making him better."

"But about the wind?—state of the weather? what is your advice? east, west, north, or south,—which is best?"

"No matter; the more wind the better gallop! Show him the way over Salisbury Plains; and make him follow you. Take no notice whatever of his feelings; but tell him, if he feels for you, he must keep pace with you. He will soon be better!"

"But, about horses? There are no good riding horses in Salisbury."

"We will arrange that for you. Sir Nicholas may leave that to me. Only assure him that he must persevere;—and let me know how he is, this day month."

At the end of the month, the Doctor received the following epistles in one cover; evidently meant to be a mutual acknowledgment.


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