This house was under the superintendence of a medical man,
Dr. T----, whose acquaintance we had made on our first arrival. He was a
middle-aged man, a thorough gentleman, a bachelor, and a great favourite
in Christchurch society. Amongst the shipment of young women was a very
handsome, ladylike, and well-educated girl, and an accomplished
musician. The doctor was smitten, proposed to her, and married her
quietly. On the day on which we first heard of the event we happened to
be sitting with some acquaintances in the public room of the White Hart
Hotel, when Dr. T---- entered, and walking over to the fire, called for
a glass of water, nodding to us all round in his usual friendly way. On
receiving the water, he threw into it and stirred up a powder which he
took from his pocket, and immediately drank off the mixture. "I've done
it now," he said; "I have taken strychnine!" and remained standing with
his back to the fire in an unconcerned manner. We scarcely heeded his
remark, taking it as a joke, till he suddenly crossed to a sofa, and
called to us for God's sake to send for a doctor. One was sent for, but
he arrived too late, if indeed his presence could have been of use at
any time. A doctor knows how much to take to ensure death. After a few
fits of convulsions, very terrible to witness, Dr.
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