The Girl at Cobhurst. Frank Richard Stockton

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СКАЧАТЬ of fees does not apply to it. For advice such as I have given you I never charge money. I take nothing but cats."

      "What!" exclaimed Miss Dora; "what on earth do you mean?"

      "I mean cats," he replied, "or rather kittens. I am very fond of kittens, and at present we have not one in the house. So, if you have a kitten—"

      "Dr. Tolbridge," cried Miss Dora, her eyes sparkling, "do you really mean that? Would you truly like to have an Angora kitten?"

      "That is exactly the breed I want," he answered.

      "Why, I have five," she said; "they are only four days old, and perfect beauties. I shall be charmed to give you one, and I will pick out the very prettiest for you. As soon as it is old enough, I will bring it to you, already named, and with a ribbon on its neck. What color would you like the ribbon to be?"

      "For Angoras, blue," he said; "I shall be so glad to have a kitten like that; but remember that you must not bring it to me until its eyes are opened, and it has—"

      "Doctor," interrupted Miss Dora, raising her forefinger, "you were just on the point of saying, 'and has shed its milk mind.' Now I am going away before you make me angry again."

      When his patient had gone, Dr. Tolbridge put another log on the fire, shook up the cushions of the sofa, and lay down to continue his nap.

CHAPTER II

       Table of Contents

      MISS PANNEY

      The Witton family, distant relatives of Miss Panney, with whom she had lived for many years, resided on a farm in the hilly country above Thorbury, and when Mrs. Tolbridge had rattled through the town, she found the country road very rough and bad—hard and bumpy in some places, and soft and muddy in others; but Buckskin was in fine spirits and pulled her bravely on.

      When she reached the Witton house she left the horse in charge of the boy, and opening the hall door, went directly up to Miss Panney's room. Knocking, she waited some little time for an answer, and then was told, in a clear, high voice, to come in. The room was large and well lighted. Against one of the walls stood a high-posted bed with a canopy, and on one of the pillows of the bed appeared the head of an elderly woman, the skin darkened and wrinkled by time, the nose aquiline, and the black eyes very sharp and quick of movement. This head was surrounded by the frills of a freshly laundered night-cap, and the smooth white coverlid was drawn up close under its chin.

      "Upon my word," exclaimed the person in the bed, "is that you, Mrs.

       Tolbridge? I thought it was the doctor."

      "I don't wonder at that, Miss Panney," said Mrs. Tolbridge. "At times we have very much the same sort of knock."

      "But where is the doctor?" asked the old lady.

      "I hope he is at home and asleep," was the reply. "He has been working very hard lately, and was up the greater part of last night. He was coming here when he received your message, but I told him he should not do it; I would come myself, and if I found it absolutely necessary that you should see him, I would let him know. And now what is the trouble, Miss Panney?"

      Miss Panney fixed her eyes steadfastly upon her visitor, who had taken a seat by the bedside.

      "Catherine Tolbridge," said she, "do you know what will happen to you, if you don't look out? You'll lose that man."

      "Lose him!" exclaimed the other.

      "Yes, just that," replied the old lady; "I have seen it over and over again. Down they drop, right in the middle of their harness. And the stouter and sturdier they are, the worse it is for them; they think they can do anything, and they do it. I'll back a skinny doctor against a burly one, any day. He knows there are things he can't do. He doesn't try, and he keeps afloat."

      "That is exactly what I am trying to do," said the doctor's wife, "and if those are your opinions, Miss Panney, don't you think that the doctor's patients ought to have a regard for his health, and that they ought not to make him come to them in all sorts of weather, and at all hours of the day, unless there is something serious the matter with them? Now I don't believe there is anything serious the matter with you today."

      "There is always something serious the matter with a person of my age," said Miss Panney, "and as for Dr. Tolbridge's visits to me doing him any harm, it is all stuff and nonsense. They do him good; they rest him; they brighten him up. He's never livelier than when he is with me. He doesn't have to hang over me all the night, giving me this and that, to keep the breath in my body, when he ought to be taking the rest that he needs more than any of us."

      Mrs. Tolbridge laughed. "No, indeed," said she, "he never has to do anything of that kind for you. I believe you are the healthiest patient he has."

      "That may be," said the other, "and it is much to his credit, and to mine, too. I know when I want a doctor. I don't send for him when I am in the last stages of anything. But we won't talk anything more about that. I want to know all about your husband. Do you think he is really out of health?"

      "No," said Mrs. Tolbridge, "he is simply overworked, and needs rest. Just the sort of rest I hope he is getting this afternoon."

      "Nonsense," said Miss Panney; "rest is well enough, but you must give him more than that if you do not want to see him break down. You must give him good victuals. Rest, without the best of food, amounts to little in his case."

      "Truly, Miss Panney!" exclaimed her visitor, "I think I give my husband as good living as any one in Thorbury has or can expect."

      "Humph!" said the old lady. "He may have all that, and yet be starving before your eyes. There isn't a man, woman, or child, in or about Thorbury, who really lives well—excepting, perhaps, myself."

      Mrs. Tolbridge smiled. "I think you do manage to live very well,

       Miss Panney."

      "Yes," said the other, "and I'd like to manage to have my friends live well, too. By the way, did you ever make rum-flake for the doctor when he comes in tired and faint?"

      "I never heard of it," replied the other.

      "I thought as much," said Miss Panney. "Well, you take the whites of two eggs and beat them up, and while you are beating you sprinkle rum over the egg, from a pepper caster, which you ought to keep clean to use for this and nothing else. Then you should sift in sugar according to taste, and when you have put a dry macaroon, which has been soaking in rum all this time, in the bottom of a glass saucer, you pile the flake over it, and it's ready for him, except that sometimes you put in—let me see!—a little orange juice, I think, but I've got the recipe there in my scrap-book, and I can find it in a minute." So saying, the old lady threw aside the coverlid, and jumped to the floor with the activity of a cat.

      Mrs. Tolbridge burst out laughing.

      "I declare, Miss Panney!" she exclaimed, "you have your dress on."

      "What of that?" said the old lady, opening a drawer. "A warm dress is a good thing to wear, at least I have always found it so."

      "But not with a night-cap," said the other.

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