CHAPTER VIII.

THE LION'S DEN.

Dr. James invited Margaret to visit "the shop," and one day, after returning a few calls in Sealing, she stopped, with her aunt, on their way home, at a plain brown house in the one street of Shellbeach. There were two square pieces of green, one on each side of the front door, shut in with a brown fence; the small door seemed quite covered up, for, besides a large shining knocker in the middle, there was above it a brass plate, on which was inscribed "Dr. James," in large letters. There also appeared a small bell on one side, and another opposite labelled "night-bell." Which of these advantages to improve, was at first rather a puzzle to Margaret; but her aunt settled the question by giving a smart pull to the right-hand bell, whence she concluded that the knocker, on which she had meditated an attack, was intended solely for unprofitable ornament.

A tall and thin young man, who had the appearance of having outgrown all his clothes, opened the door with a promptness which seemed to imply that he had been lying in wait for the favorable moment to pounce upon them, and which was a little startling to the ladies. He surveyed them both with interest, explained that the doctor was not at home, but was expected in, and proposed that they should walk into the parlor and wait. Having ushered them into that apartment, the youth discreetly withdrew.

"My dear aunt, what a forlorn room! And do you see the dust?"

Miss Spelman shook her head in a mournful manner, and proceeded to establish herself on a black horsehair couch, (having first gently flapped it with her handkerchief,) while Margaret walked about from one thing to another, commenting and criticising.

"This is where he sits to write, I suppose. And if here isn't a family of three little kittens curled up in his arm-chair! I hope he won't mistake them for a cushion, that's all! What piles of books! Medicine, medicine, medicine! Oh! here is something of a different kind; poetry! who would have imagined it? Shelley, Longfellow, Tennyson. How many nice things! This bookcase is filled with treasures. The dust can't get in there, that's a comfort! And this is a family portrait, I suppose; a lady with one, two, three, six children. How funny and old-fashioned it is! Here are his pipe and smoking-cap; oh! do see these funny skin slippers;" and she balanced one on each hand. "How I would like to rummage here! Oh! there are sleigh-bells." And Margaret established herself, prim and proper, in one of the hard, straight-backed chairs just as Dr. James entered. He gave them a pleasant welcome, and conducted them at once into "the shop."

"It's a good time to look about here," he observed, "while John is gone with the mare. The shop is his especial sanctum, and I think he regards visitors as interlopers."

There was no dust to be seen in that room; every thing was scrubbed and brushed till it shone, and absolute neatness reigned.

"This does not look to me like a shop," said Margaret.

"I can't say I deal in 'slippery-ellum,' 'stick-licorish,' and 'gum-arrabac-drops,'" replied the doctor; "if you want the real name, this is a dispensary on a small scale. You see, I have no faith in Mr. Creamer, in Sealing, further than for simple doses. You might buy essence of peppermint or tincture of rhubarb of him, to great advantage; but as for compounding pills and powders, I prefer to attend to those myself. Then it is a convenience to some of my patients, who can make a visit to the doctor and obtain their remedies at one and the same time."

At these words, Miss Spelman gave her niece a little nudge, as they stood side by side, and looked, as the saying is, volumes; but Margaret did not understand, and wondered what her aunt could mean.

"And who is John?" she asked.

"Oh! John is my factotum; as much a part of myself as the shop is. You see he stays here when I am away, and goes on errands; he keeps every thing nice, and can be trusted with simple prescriptions; in return for which, I impart to him a little medical knowledge; so we stand both amicably in each other's debt, which leads to an excellent understanding between us."

Again Margaret felt herself gently poked; but being as completely in the dark as ever, she was forced to wait for an explanation till a future time. They admired all the arrangements, till John's return, when the doctor led them back into the parlor, where, the fire having been stirred up and the curtains drawn so as to admit the sun, the aspect of things was more cheerful. Margaret once more admired the kittens and books, and accepted the doctor's offer to lend from the latter, by borrowing Miss Procter's poems, in blue and gold, which she espied on a high shelf.

On their drive homeward, Margaret said,

"Why did you punch me, Aunt Selina? Was I misbehaving?"

"No, indeed! I only wanted you to notice what the doctor was saying. What was it?"

"The first time was when he said his patients could visit him and get their remedies at the same time."

"Yes, just his benevolence. Those are his poor patients, you see, for whom he has set up that dispensary; he gives them advice and medicine free."

"But then he must have money."

"So he has, a little; but he uses up every cent and more; for he sends some to his mother and sister, and takes ever so much care of the poor for miles around."

"But he must have fees from his rich patients; you told me he was as popular at Sealing as here."

"Certainly they pay him; but he does not encourage a large practice in Sealing, for there is a very good doctor living there, with a wife and family. So though Dr. James visits a few patients in Sealing, they are almost all people who used to live here, and are now not willing to give him up. But his fees could not begin to enable him to do all he does, if he had not something of his own."

"The second time you admonished me was when he spoke of his boy."

Miss Spelman laughed contemptuously.

"It was exactly like him to speak as if that matter was a give-and-take affair! The fact is, the boy's mother, a widow, took it into her head, like all mothers, that her son was something remarkable, and ought to be sent to college; of course without a penny to do it with. She disclosed her mind to Dr. James, and the end of it was, that he has taken him clean off her hands, gives him a nice little salary for the work he does in the dispensary, and is educating him, besides, to be a first-rate physician; and I suppose when the doctor goes away from this town, young Richards will just step into his place and have it all his own way. I know all this, you see, because I know the mother. The doctor never breathed a word of it, you may be sure; but she told me all about it. And this is what Dr. James calls a mutual-benefit society, or something of the sort."

Margaret laughed; but she was not disposed to praise or admire the doctor, chiefly because she was aware that her aunt expected and wished her to do so. She listened attentively, however, to this, and as much more information as Miss Spelman chose to volunteer about her favorite, now and then putting in a doubtful question, or slightly depreciatory remark, which only elicited fresh praises; until sometimes the little lady would dimly perceive the game her niece was playing, and retire into silence and dignity.