My new patient told me that, hearing that hitherto my great celebrity had been acquired by the cure of obesity, she feared it was useless to consult me for a disease of so opposite a nature, but even still more distressing.
"I inquired into her habits and _regime_.

Found that she took violent exercise; was abstemious at table; drank strong green tea, and coffee without cream or milk; disliked nutritious food; and, though she sat up late, was an early riser.

I ordered her the frequent use of warm baths, and to take all that I had prohibited the Duchesse; permitted only gentle exercise in a carriage; and, in short, soon succeeded in rendering the thin lady plump and rosy, to the great joy of herself, and the wonder of her friends.
"This treatment, which was only what any one possessed of common sense would have prescribed in such a case, extended my fame far and wide.

Fat and thin ladies flocked to me for advice, and not only liberally rewarded the success of my system, but sounded my praises in all quarters.
"I became the doctor _a la mode_, soon amassed an independence, and, though not without a confidence in my own skill--for I have never lost any opportunity of improvement in my profession--I must confess that I still retain the conviction that the celebrated Doctor P---- would have had little chance, at least for many years, of acquiring either fame or wealth, had he not employed the means I have confessed to you, ladies." I cannot do justice to this _spirituel_ old man's mode of telling the story, or describe the finesse of his arch smile while recounting it.
Mr.P.C.Scarlett, a son of our excellent and valued friend Sir James Scarlett[3], dined here yesterday.

He is a fine young man, clever, well-informed, and amiable, with the same benignant countenance and urbanity of manner that are so remarkable in his father.
I remember how much struck I was with Sir James Scarlett's countenance when he was first presented to me.