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A Restorative of Youth: becomes all the Rage


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"You look different, have you done something with your hair?" Rochester drawled lazily across the card table, to where the Duchess of Cleveland smiled with something akin to inner smugness.


"No, guess again." the lady replied, laying down the jack of clubs.


"Ah, I wondered where that was." he wrinkled his nose at the card played, and then looked at the woman opposite again. "A new lover perhaps?" he played the ten, Barbara took the trick.


"Pfft, you are so cliche darling... a sign of growing old hmm?" There was definitely something different of her person, almost a contentedness within her tone, a brightness of optimism in her eye.


"Come on, out with it, is it a new rouge perhaps?" he forgot the game he was loosing, and leaning on elbows inspected the Duchess.


Providing sparkling laughter, the lady produced a tub from her purse, "Why it's this darling, why from the moment I applied it I felt a youthful sensation. I got it from a charming fellow, that is his name on the bottle just there." As she noted the man's sceptical eyebrow rise, she continued on with a little creative licence, "Patent Medicine, do you see... did you know he is actually 57, but he looks decades younger."


"Hmm, I'd always thought there was something rather, dated about his goatee." Rochester murmured.


"Why, you just wait and see me next season, by then I ought to look 22." Barbara sighed with contented belief in the 'Oyntment For Restoring Beauty', Patent Medicine, Dr James Winchester'. Snatching away the tub from Rochesters fingers as he reached for it, she declared, "Get your own darling!"


... ears at a table nearby took note. And thus word begun to grow, shortly enough orders begun to flood in to Winchester for his remedy.

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