Take some brandy and water." "Good advice costs nothing," says Tom, filling; "Mr.Heale, read that letter." And the Lieutenant details his ailments, and their supposed cause, till Heale has the pleasure of hearing Tom answer-- "Fiddlesticks! That's not what's the matter with you.

I'll cure you for half-a-crown, and toss you up double or quits.
"Oh!" groans Heale, as he spells away over the letter,-- "Lord Minchampstead having been informed by Mr.Armsworth that Mr.
Thurnall is now in the neighbourhood of his estates of Pentremochyn, would feel obliged to him at his earliest convenience to examine into the sanitary state of the cottages thereon, which are said to be much haunted by typhus and other epidemics, and to send him a detailed report, indicating what he thinks necessary for making them thoroughly healthy.

Mr.Thurnall will be so good as to make his own charge." "Well, Mr.Thurnall, you ought to turn a good penny by this," said Heale, half envious of Tom's connection, half contemptuous at his supposed indifference to gain.
"I'll charge what it's worth," said Tom.

"Meanwhile, I hope you're going to see Miss Beer to-night." "Couldn't you just go yourself, my dear sir?
It is so late." "No; I never go near young women.

I told you so at first, and I stick to my rule.