startled at hearing a rustling noise, and, on looking round, to see a
stout-looking woman standing beside me.

"Doctor," said she, addressing me, "I know what you're about here."

I shook my head solemnly.

"This is my poor late husband's tomb."

"I know it," I answered. "I mean to exercise my art upon him first. He
shall be restored to your arms this very night."

The widow gave a faint scream--"I'm sure, doctor," said she, "I'm greatly
obliged to you. Peter was the best of husbands--but he has now been dead
six months--and--I am--married again."

"Humph!" said I, "the meeting will be rather awkward, but you may induce
your second husband to resign."

"No, no, doctor; let the poor man rest quietly, and here is a trifle for
your trouble." So saying, she slipped a weighty purse into my hand.

"This alters the case," said I, "materially--your late husband shall never
be disturbed by me."

The widow withdrew with a profusion of acknowledgments; and scarcely had
she gone, when a young fellow, who I learned had lately come into
possession of a handsome property by the death of an uncle, came to
request me not to meddle with the deceased, who he assured me was a
shocking old curmudgeon, who never spent his money like a gentleman. A