When George came to look at his old friend--"to cheer you up a little, old fellow, you know," and so on--he found Tom, for the time being, past all capability of being cheered, even by the genial society of his favourite jolly good fellow, or by tidings of a steeplechase in Yorkshire, in which a neighbour had gone to grief over a double fence.
"That chap upstairs seems rather queerish," George had said to his brother, after finding Tom lower and weaker than usual.

"He's in a bad way, isn't he, Phil ?" "No; there's nothing serious the matter with him.

He's rather low to-night, that's all." "Rather low!" echoed George Sheldon.

"He seems to me so very low, that he can't sink much lower without going to the bottom of his grave.

I'd call some one in, if I were you." The dentist shrugged his shoulders, and made a little contemptuous noise with his lips.
"If you knew as much of doctors as I do, you wouldn't be in any hurry to trust a friend to the mercy of one," he said carelessly.