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"Yes; Boxall Hill: my master's place my master is Sir Louis Scatcherd, baronet. You've heard of him, I suppose?" Dr Fillgrave had not his mind quite ready for such an occasion. So he withdrew his foot from the carriage step, and rubbing his hands one over another, looked at his own hall door for inspiration.

Dr Fillgrave, before you go, allow me to say this: I am quite aware that when he fell into your hands, no medical skill in the world could save him." Dr Fillgrave bowed low from the carriage, and after this unwonted exchange of courtesies, the two doctors parted, not to meet again at any rate, in the pages of this novel.

Pertinax Fillgrave. Presently the Doctor, who was a little thin man, came bustling across the street, and was about, with a familiar "Good evening," to pass by the Corporal, when that worthy, dropping his pipe, said respectfully, "Beg pardon, Sir want to speak to you a little favour. Will your honour walk in the back- parlour?"

Frank desired to be civil, but he had no idea of beating unnecessarily about the bush on such an occasion as this. "It's by Sir Omicron's advice, Dr Fillgrave. You see, this man here" and he nodded his head towards the doctor's house, being still anxious not to pronounce the hideous name "has known my mother's constitution for so many years." "Oh, Mr Gresham; of course, if it is wished."

Sir Omicron and the lesser provincial lights had their consultation, and the lesser lights went their way to Barchester and Silverbridge, leaving Sir Omicron to enjoy the hospitality of Greshamsbury. "You should have Thorne back here, Mr Gresham," said Sir Omicron, almost in a whisper, when they were quite alone. "Doctor Fillgrave is a very good man, and so is Dr Century; very good, I am sure.

And, Mr Gresham," continued the doctor, "I did understand from Lady Arabella that his that is, Dr Thorne's conduct to her ladyship had been such so very outrageous, I may say, that that that of course, Mr Gresham, you know best; but I did think that Lady Arabella herself was quite unwilling to see Doctor Thorne again;" and Dr Fillgrave looked very big, and very dignified, and very exclusive.

Your coming, Dr Thorne, will be a comfort to Lady Scatcherd." And then Dr Fillgrave, thinking that even the present circumstances required no further condescension, ensconced himself in the carriage. "His last days have been very dreadful! Ah, me, poor fellow!

But if you have not full confidence in me " "I have no confidence in you at all." "Then why not send to London? Expense is no object to you." "It is an object; a great object." "Nonsense! Send to London for Sir Omicron Pie: send for some man whom you will really trust when you see him. "There's not one of the lot I'd trust as soon as Fillgrave. I've known Fillgrave all my life, and I trust him.

If any man can do anything, Sir Omicron Pie will do it. But all that skill can do has been done." "We are sure of that, Dr. Fillgrave," said the archdeacon; "we are quite sure of that. But yet you know " "Oh, quite right," said the doctor, "quite right I should have done just the same I advised it at once.

Dr Fillgrave soon knew what was to be the man's fate; but he did what he might to relieve it. There, in one big, best bedroom, looking out to the north, lay Sir Louis Scatcherd, dying wretchedly. There, in the other big, best bedroom, looking out to the south, had died the other baronet about a twelvemonth since, and each a victim to the same sin.