It was a curious sight enough to see those two representatives of two
great professions brought face to face to talk over the subjects they had
been looking at all their lives from such different points of view. Both
were old; old enough to have been moulded by their habits of thought and
life; old enough to have all their beliefs "fretted in," as vintners
say,--thoroughly worked up with their characters. Each of them looked his
calling. The Reverend Doctor had lived a good deal among books in his
study; the Doctor, as we will call the medical gentleman, had been riding
about the country for between thirty and forty years. His face looked
tough and weather-worn; while the Reverend Doctor's, hearty as it
appeared, was of finer texture. The Doctor's was the graver of the two;
there was something of grimness about it, partly owing to the
northeasters he had faced for so many years, partly to long companionship
with that stern personage who never deals in sentiment or pleasantry.
His speech was apt to be brief and peremptory; it was a way he had got by
ordering patients; but he could discourse somewhat, on occasion, as the
reader may find out.
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