'
So with a tender smile, and a charge to shut the door 'perfectly, but
without clapping it,' he dismissed me. Doctor Bryerly had not slept at
Bartram, but at the little inn in Feltram, and he was going direct to
London, as I afterwards learned.
'Your ugly doctor's gone away in a fly,' said Milly, as we met on the
stairs, she running up, I down.
On reaching the little apartment which was our sitting-room, however, I
found that she was mistaken; for Doctor Bryerly, with his hat and a great
pair of woollen gloves on, and an old Oxford grey surtout that showed his
lank length to advantage, buttoned all the way up to his chin, had set down
his black leather bag on the table, and was reading at the window a little
volume which I had borrowed from my uncle's library.
It was Swedenborg's account of the other worlds, Heaven and Hell.
He closed it on his finger as I entered, and without recollecting to remove
his hat, he made a step or two towards me with his splay, creaking boots.
With a quick glance at the door, he said--
'Glad to see you alone for a minute--very glad.'
But his countenance, on the contrary, looked very anxious.
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