Gibson's young gentlemen,' as they were termed in the town. Mr. Wynne
was the elder, the more experienced one, who could occasionally take
his master's place, and who gained experience by visiting the poor, and
the 'chronic cases.' Mr. Gibson used to talk over his practice with Mr.
Wynne, and try and elicit his opinions in the vain hope that, some day
or another, Mr. Wynne might start an original thought. The young man
was cautious and slow; he would never do any harm by his rashness, but
at the same time he would always be a little behind his day. Still Mr.
Gibson remembered that he had had far worse 'young gentlemen' to deal
with; and was content with, if not thankful for, such an elder pupil as
Mr. Wynne. Mr. Coxe was a boy of nineteen or so, with brilliant red
hair, and a tolerably red face, of both of which he was very conscious
and much ashamed. He was the son of an Indian officer, an old
acquaintance of Mr. Gibson's. Major Coxe was at some unpronounceable
station in the Punjaub, at the present time; but the year before he had
been in England, and had repeatedly expressed his great satisfaction at
having placed his only child as a pupil to his old friend, and had in
fact almost charged Mr. Gibson with the guardianship as well as the
instruction of his boy, giving him many injunctions which he thought
were special in this case; but which Mr. Gibson with a touch of
annoyance assured the major were always attended to in every case, with
every pupil. But when the poor major ventured to beg that his boy might
be considered as one of the family, and that he might spend his
evenings in the drawing-room instead of the surgery, Mr Gibson turned
upon him with a direct refusal.

'He must live like the others. I can't have the pestle and mortar
carried into the drawing-room, and the place smelling of aloes.'

'Must my boy make pills himself, then?' asked the major, ruefully.