She could still remember his face, the perpetually wet lips that turned down at the sides, his drooping Roman eyes. At half after five that afternoon the doctor and his friend McClintock entered the office of the Victoria. His features were regular, and finely-formed; his complexion bright and blooming,—a little shaded, however, by travel and exposure to the sun; and, with a praiseworthy contempt for the universal and preposterous fashion then prevailing, of substituting a peruke for the natural covering of the head, he allowed his own dark-brown hair to fall over his shoulders in ringlets as luxuriant as those that distinguished the court gallant in Charles the Second's days—a fashion, which we do not despair of seeing revived in our own days. You have been her guardian angel. So soft.
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