University of Virginia Library

8. CHAPTER VIII.

The State House clock tolled twelve,
and Dr. — rose from his dentist's bench
where he had been at work several hours.

`They are perfect. I have made so beautiful
a piece of work of it that the owner herself
might not disdain to have them replaced,
if no one answers my advertisement.' As he
spoke he held up to his own admiration the
teeth Mrs. Warton had lost, accurately fitted
to gold plates, and ready for replacing if necessary,
or to supply the place of those that
should be sacrificed by some hapless victim.
`They are chef d'œuvres! Perfect! and they
must fit any mouth that has teeth to fit Mrs.
Wharton's. Incomparable!'

Thus eulogizing them, the enthusiastic dentist
carefully placed them upon his instrument
case.

`I wonder if anybody will answer my advertisement.
'Tis after twelve, and any one
anxious to do it would have been here with
the last stroke of the clock. But I hope no
decent person in this benevolent city is so
sunk in want as to fly to this alternative for
relief. I have fitted the natural teeth so
well to the elastic plate that Mrs. Wharton
will scarcely object to them. She should be
here soon. Ha! There is my bell. Pete,
you vagabond, where are you? In the street
playing marbles with the penny paper boys,
I'll wager my eye teeth! I heard no carriage
stop!'

The dentist opened his door and saw before
it a graceful young woman, who from
the plain but neat straw cottage, green veil,
and small cheap shawl, as well as from a
certain air of gentility about her, he knew
to be a milliner's apprentice. Her veil was
closely drawn over her face, and her figure
was hid beneath the folds of the shawl, but
he could not fail to discover through all that
her face was youthful and lovely, and that her
figure was light and symmetrical. Her foot
and hand—for the Doctor had an eye for female
beauty, and his eyes sought unconsciously
those never-erring signs of birth and
well-breeding, were small—the foot exquisitely
so.

`Walk in, Miss,' said the dentist, with
native gallantry, for Dr. — was a great
admirer of beauty.

`Thank you, sir! but—but'—

`Pray be seated, Miss—tooth-ache, I suppose.
I will extract it in a minute!' said the
dentist, taking his `key' and scientifically
winding his red silk handkerchief about its
polished shaft.

`No, sir—but'— and the soft musical
voice trembled.

`No tooth-ache!' repeated the Doctor, impressed
by the richness of her low tones;
`that I will asseverate; you have not the
tooth-ache! Your voice would not be so
even and musical if you had. An aching
tooth in that fine toned instrument, the human
voice, is like a key out of tune on a piano—
it makes discord of the whole.'

`You advertised, sir, I believe,' said Caroline,
with a firmer tone.

`Ah! I perceive. Is it possible you have
come hither from reading my advertisement?'

`Yes, sir.'

`Are you willing to lose four of your teeth?'

`Yes, sir—if—if'—

`Paid well for them, you would say.'

`No, sir,' cried Caroline, earnestly; `I
care not for that so much as'—here she
hesitated, and then added, abruptly—`I am
in great need of a certain sum of money, sir,
and will do it for that.'

`Name the sum!'

`Twenty dollars.'

`Let me see your teeth, if you please,' said
the Doctor, with feelings painfully touched
by the emotion she in vain tried to suppress.

She removed her veil and showed a face
so very lovely, that he started back with an
exclamation of surprise. He then asked in
the most delicate and respectful manner to
examine her mouth. Parting with an ivory
slip the lips of the half-fainting yet resolute
girl, as she sat in his `patients' chair,' he beheld
the whitest and most symmetrically arranged
teeth, each one perfeet in itself, he
had ever met with—not even excepting Mrs.
Wharton's

`Are you in earnest in wishing to part
with these fine teeth?' he demanded with
astonishment, after admiring them for a few
moments with delighted surprise.

`Yes, sir,'

`I beg of you do not part with them—it
were sacrilege to mar so fair an instument—
to destroy the ivory columns of so beautiful
a temple! Are you sincere?'

`Indeed, sir, I am.'

`I fear me either great virtue or great avarice
hath driven you to this, child!'

`I beg of you, sir, tell me if my teeth are
such as you require!

`They are perfect,' he said, taking those
which he had set upon the gold plate, and
comparing them.

`And will you give me twenty dollars for
the four front ones, sir?' she asked with trembling
doubt.

`I will. Will you consent to have them
drawn?'

`At once.'

The sound of a carriage driving to the
door was now heard, and the Doctor desiring
Caroline to retire to his ante-room from
observation, the next moment received Mrs.
Wharton. She was pale but no less lovely.
'You received my note, Doctor?' she asked
seated.

But I have, as you here
see, fitted your teeth on plates so accurately
that they can be replaced without difficulty,
and will look nearly as well as before. Besides,
you need not wait for the gums to heal,
as I have a compositton for filling the cavities
so that I can place them on at once. Look
at them are they not beautiful?'

`My poor teeth!' she said, sighing as she
glanced at them. `Could you find no person,
Doctor?'

`I should prefer replacing these, madam.'

`No. The idea of false teeth, gold plates
in my mouth—I could not endure the thought.
I should feel as if I were made of wires and
plated! Is there no alternative!'

`There is a young weman who is willing to
lose her teeth,' said the Doctor dropping his
voice; `but really they are so perfect—nature
has made such a pretty piece of work of
it—that I should regret to mar it.'

`Are they so beautiful.'

`As beautiful as your own were.'

`Were! it is indeed were. Doctor I must
have these teeth of hers. But is she young.'

`Young and lovely. She is now in the
next room.

`Let me see her—no, I should rather not,
on second thought—I should feel so awkward
in meeting her afterwards. Does she
know who wants her to make the sacrifice?'

`No.'

`Do not let her. Yet, I would like to see
her. She may be a—but you would not deceive
me.'

`She is as fair as the snow. Come hither.
Do you see the well-turned point of that shoe
and instep, just visible within the room?'

`I do. She is a young lady!'

`Such a foot can belong to none other.'

The Dentist having placed his patient and
her victim in arm-chairs in their respective
rooms, now prepared to go through his painful
duty. Having carefully measured the
depth of each of the cavities in Mrs. Wharton's
mouth, he irritated the inner surface
and made a slight incision on the sides so as
to draw blood. Then, going into the room
where Caroline was patiently and resolutely
seated, he drew one of her teeth with such
skill and ease as scarcely to give her pain,
and returned with it into the room he had
left. He measured it by the previously ascertained

measures of the depth of the corresponding
bed, when finding it a little too
long, he clipped off the end and quickly and
most skilfully placed it in the cavity he had
prepared for it. In this manner he extracted
four teeth from Caroline's head, and inserted
them in Mrs. Wharton's, who under the operation
suffered far more pain than she who
had made the greater sacrifice. The whole
operation occupied about twenty minutes.
The teeth were beautifully reset, and when
Mrs. Wharton looked in a small mirror he
placed before her, she uttered, notwithstanding
the inflamation and pain she still
suffered, an involuntary scream of delight.

`Doctor, bless you! The poor girl! She
did not even cry out! Take this and reward
her, and also give her from me, this diamond
ring,' she added, removing a brilliant from
her finger, and placing it, with a roll of bank
notes in his hand.

`You will take no food, Mrs. Wharton,
that will require you to use your teeth, for
three days, and will speak as little as you
can in the mean time. It will be necessary
with a preparation I shall give you, to bathe
the gums repeatedly and keep your mouth
as much closed for a day or two as possible.
Be careful also of the cool air. I will call
and see you to-morrow.'

Having received the wash he had prepared,
Mrs. Wharton took leave of the dentist
with smiles, and he was left alone with the
noble victim of female vanity. Mrs. Wharton
was a sensible and pleasing woman! a
kind and generous hearted woman! But what
will not a beautiful woman consent to, be it
never so cruel, to preserve or restore a charm!
Let those ladies who would condemn Mrs.
Wharton, withhold their judgment till they
have been placed precisely in her situation.
We neither condemn nor defend her—for
gentlemen are not fair judges in a case which
can never fall precisely within their persenal
experience. As to the conduct of Caroline
Archer my readers can have but one opinion.

This noble girl felt no pain—no grief at
the marring of her beauty—as one by one
she gave her beautiful teeth to the fangs of
the despoiling iron. She only thought of the
relief she was to afford her beloved mother—
that for three months longer she was securing
to her a roof and a home.

`You are a noble girl! I am sorry I have
done this,' said the Doctor, as he returned to
her. `Distress I fear has driven you to it.
I would rather have forfeited the Lady's custom
and the favour of her whole caste than
have done this wicked thing! Why did you
not ask me for money? I would rather have
given one hundred dollars than had this done.
But it is too late now to lament. But then
you are such a noble girl! Some lofty and
honest purpose had strengthened your spirit
or you could never have borne pain as you
have done. I must now repair, to the best
of my power, the devastation I have made.'

`The blood soon ceased flowing and in a
few minutes the inflammation became so far
reduced that he took up the pairs of teeth he
had fitted to the plate and asked her if he
should put them in their place.

`Will you give me a mirror, sir?'

`Not now, child. I will first fix these teeth
in.'

`Now, if you please sir.'

He gave her the glass. She glanced into
it, witnessed her disfigurement, and, like a
true hearted woman as she was, burst into
tears. They were soon dried up; and when
a few minutes afterwards the dentist again
handed her the mirror, she sprung to her feet
with delight, no less great than Mrs. Wharton
had shown. `They are like my own.'

`They are indeed,' said the dentist, viewing
this effect of his skill with gratification;
`I hope they will supply their place. They
will feel uncomfortably a day or two, but you
will soon become accustomed to them. Now,
miss, you desired twenty dollars. Here are
one hundred dollars, the sum which the lady
gave me for you as she promised to do. Here
also is a ring worth as much more, which she
took from her finger, and desired me to give
you in token of her gratitude.'

`Caroline took the ring and the money,
scarcely believing the reality of what she
heard. Then clasping together her hands,
she sent up a silent offering of thanksgiving
to him who had given her the virtue and courage
to make the sacrifice of that natural female
vanity common to all the young and
lovely of her sex.

`She is young, she is beautiful, and she is
pious, soliloquized Dr. —, as he listened
to her light footstep on the last stair as she
retired. `I wish she had told me her history.
She is a noble girl. I must find her out!
What a lovely bride she would make. I must
know who she is. She is in humble life, and
she is very poor; doubtless in pressing misery,
or she would hardly have made the sacrifice
she has to-day. Pete;'

`Thir!' cried a woolly-pated African lad,
about fourteen years old, popping his head
inio the door and grinning from ear to ear,
with a half-smothered laugh he had brought
in from the street.

`You are here, are you, you scape-grace?
Did you see that young woman go out?'

`Yeth, thir.'

`Follow, and see where she goes in, and
bring me the name and number of the house.
If you play by the way, I'll thrash you.'

`Yeth thir.'

`I will find her, and if she be respectable,
be she poor as a parish priest's cow, I'll marry
her if she'll have me.'

Thus meditated Dr. —; and lighting
his cigar, he gave himself up to a train of
delightful hymeneal visions, which, like `the
baseless fabric' of most bachelors' dreams,
were destined, alas! to leave `no wreck behind.'