Dr.Snell then drove away, leaving the parent rather puzzled, but, on the whole, much comforted.
And here I must reveal an extraordinary circumstance.
Wyman's treatment was by drugs.
Dr.Snell's was by drugs.
Dr.Snell, as you have seen, entirely approved Wyman's treatment.
His own had nothing in common with it.

The Arctic and Antarctic poles are not farther apart than was his prescription from the prescription he thoroughly approved.
Amiable science! In which complete diversity of practice did not interfere with perfect uniformity of opinion.
All this was kept from Dr.Staines, and he was entirely occupied in trying to get a position that might lead to fortune, and satisfy Mr.
Lusignan.

He called on every friend he had, to inquire where there was an opening.

He walked miles and miles in the best quarters of London, looking for an opening; he let it be known in many quarters that he would give a good premium to any physician who was about to retire, and would introduce him to his patients.
No: he could hear of nothing.
Then, after a great struggle with himself, he called upon his uncle, Philip Staines, a retired M.D., to see if he would do anything for him.
He left this to the last, for a very good reason: Dr.Philip was an irritable old bachelor, who had assisted most of his married relatives; but, finding no bottom to the well, had turned rusty and crusty, and now was apt to administer kicks instead of checks to all who were near and dear to him.

However, Christopher was the old gentleman's favorite, and was now desperate; so he mustered courage, and went.