CHAPTER IV.

  THE DOCTORS.

  "My dears," said Miss Wealthy, as they sat down to dinner,--the bellrang on the stroke of one, and the girls were both ready and waiting inthe parlor, which pleased the dear old lady very much,--"my dears, whenI made the little suggestions this morning as to how you should amuseyourselves, I entirely forgot to mention Dr. Abernethy. I cannot imaginehow I should have forgotten it, but Martha assures me that I did. Dr.Abernethy is entirely at your service in the mornings, but I generallyrequire him for an hour in the afternoon. I am sure Rose will be thebetter for his treatment; and I trust you will both find himsatisfactory, though possibly he may seem to you a little slow, for heis not so young as he once was."

  "Dr.--Oh, Cousin Wealthy!" exclaimed Hildegarde, in dismay. "But we areperfectly well! At least--of course, Rose is not strong yet; but she isgaining strength every day, and we have Dr. Flower's directions. Indeed,we don't need any doctor."

  Cousin Wealthy smiled. She enjoyed a little joke as much as any one, andDr. Abernethy was one of her standing jokes.

  "I think, my dear," she said, "that you will be very glad to availyourself of the Doctor's services when once you know him. Indeed, Ishall make a point of your seeing him once a day, as a rule." Then,seeing that both girls were thoroughly mystified, she added: "Dr.Abernethy is a very distinguished physician. He gives no medicine, hisinvariable prescription being a little gentle exercise. He lives--inthe stable, my dears, and he has four legs and a tail."

  "Oh! oh! Cousin Wealthy, how could you frighten us so!" criedHildegarde. "You must be kissed immediately, as a punishment." She flewaround the table, and kissed the soft cheek, like a crumpled blush rose."A horse! How delightful! Rose, we were wishing that we might drive,weren't we? And what a funny, nice name! Dr. Abernethy! He was a greatEnglish doctor, wasn't he? And I was wondering if some stupid countrydoctor had stolen his name."

  "I had rather a severe illness a few years ago," said Miss Wealthy, "andwhen I was recovering from it my physician advised me to try drivingregularly, saying that he should resign in favor of Dr. Horse. So Ibought this excellent beast, and named him Dr. Abernethy, after thefamous physician, whom I had seen once in London, when I was a littlegirl."

  "It was he who used to do such queer things, wasn't it?" saidHildegarde. "Did he do anything strange when you saw him, CousinWealthy?"

  "Nothing really strange," said Miss Wealthy, "though it seemed so to methen. He came to see my mother, who was ill, and bolted first into theroom where I sat playing with my doll.

  "'Who's this? who's this?' he said, in a very gruff voice. 'Little girl!Humph! Tooth-ache, little girl?'

  "'No, sir,' I answered faintly, being frightened nearly out of my wits.

  "'Head-ache, little girl?'

  "'No, sir.'

  "'Stomach-ache, little girl?'

  "'Oh, no, sir!'

  "'Then take that!' and he thrust a little paper of chocolate drops intomy hand, and stumped out of the room as quickly as he had come in. Ithought he was an ogre at first; for I was only seven years old, and hadjust been reading 'Jack and the Beanstalk;' but the chocolate dropsreassured me."

  "What an extraordinary man!" exclaimed Rose. "And was he a very gooddoctor?"

  "Oh, wonderful!" replied Miss Wealthy. "People came from all parts ofthe world to consult him, and he could not even go out in the streetwithout being clutched by some anxious patient. They used to tell afunny story about an old woman's catching him in this way one day, whenhe was in a great hurry,--but he was always in a hurry,--and pouring outa long string of symptoms, so fast that the doctor could not get in aword edgewise. At last he shouted 'Stop!' so loud that all the people inthe street turned round to stare. The old lady stopped in terror, andDr. Abernethy bade her shut her eyes and put her tongue out; then, whenshe did so, he walked off, and left her standing there in the middle ofthe sidewalk with her tongue out. I don't know whether it is true,though."

  "Oh, I hope it is!" cried Hildegarde, laughing. "It is too funny not tobe true."

  "We had a very queer doctor at Glenfield some years ago," said Rose. "Hemust have been just the opposite of Dr. Abernethy. He was very tall andvery slow, and spoke with the queerest drawl, using always the longestwords he could find. I never shall forget his coming to our house oncewhen Bubble had the measles. He had come a day or two before, but I hadnot seen him. This time, however, I was in the room. He sat down by thebed, and began stroking his long chin. It was the longest chin I eversaw, nearly as long as the rest of his face.

  "'And is there any amelioration of the symptoms this morning?' he askedMother,--'ame-e-lioration?' (He was very fond of repeating any word thathe thought sounded well.)

  "Poor dear mother hadn't the faintest idea what amelioration was; andshe stammered and colored, and said she hadn't noticed any, and didn't_think_ the child had it. But luckily I was in the 'Fifth Reader' then,and had happened to have 'amelioration' in my spelling-lesson only a fewdays before; so I spoke up and said, 'Oh, yes, Dr. Longman, he is agreat deal better, and he is really hungry to-day.'

  "'Ah!' said Dr. Longman, 'craves food, does he?--cra-aves food!'

  "Just then Bubble's patience gave out. He was getting better, and itmade him _so_ cross, poor dear! he snapped out, in his funny way, 'I'vegot a bile comin' on my nose, and it hurts like fury!'

  "Dr. Longman stooped forward, put on his spectacles, and looked at theboil carefully. 'Ah!' he said, 'furunculus,--furunculus! Is it--ah--isit excru-ciating?'

  "I can't describe the way in which he pronounced the last word. As hesaid it, he dropped his head, and looked over his spectacles at Bubblein a way that was perfectly irresistible. Bubble gave a sort of howl,and disappeared under the bedclothes; and I had a fit of coughing, whichmade Mother very anxious. Dear mother! she never could see anythingfunny about Dr. Longman."

  At this moment Martha entered, bringing the dessert,--a wonderfulalmond-pudding, such as only Martha could make. She stopped a moment,holding the door as if to prevent some one's coming in.

  "Here's the Doctor wants terrible to come in, Mam!" she said. "Will Ilet him?"

  "Yes, certainly," said Miss Wealthy, smiling. "Let the good Doctor in!"

  The girls looked up in amazement, half expecting to see a horse's headappear in the doorway; but instead, a majestic black "coon" cat, withwaving feathery tail and large yellow eyes, walked solemnly in, andseeing the two strangers, stopped to observe them.

  "My dears, this is the other Doctor!" said Miss Wealthy, bending tocaress the new-comer "Dr. Samuel Johnson, at your service. He is one ofthe most important members of the family. Doctor, I hope you will bevery friendly to these young ladies, and not take one of your absurddislikes to either of them. All depends upon the first impression, mydears!" she added, in an undertone, to the girls. "He is forming hisopinion now, and nothing will ever alter it."

  Quite a breathless pause ensued; while the magnificent cat stoodmotionless, turning his yellow eyes gravely from one to the other of thegirls. At length Hildegarde could not endure his gaze any longer, andshe said hastily but respectfully, "Yes, sir! I _have_ read 'Pilgrim'sProgress,' I assure you!--read it through and through, a number oftimes, and love it dearly."

  Dr. Johnson instantly advanced, and rubbing his head against her dress,purred loudly. He then went round to Rose, who sat opposite, and madethe same demonstration of good-will to her.

  "Dear pussy!" said Rose, stroking him gently, and scratching him behindone ear in a very knowing manner.

  Miss Wealthy drew a long breath of satisfaction. "It is all right," shesaid. "Martha, he is delighted with the young ladies. Dear Doctor! heshall have some almond-pudding at once. Bring me his saucer, please,Martha!"

  Martha brought a blue saucer; but Miss Wealthy looked at it withsurprise and disapproval.

  "That is not the Doctor's saucer, Martha," she said. "Is it possiblethat you have forgotten? He has _always_ had the odd yellow saucer eversince he was a kitten."

  "I'm sorry, Mam," sa
id Martha, gently. "Jenny broke the yellow saucerthis morning, Mam, as she was washing it after the Doctor's breakfast.I'm very sorry it should have happened, Mam."

  "_Broke the yellow saucer!_" cried Miss Wealthy. Her voice was as softas ever, but Hildegarde and Rose both felt as if the Russians hadentered Constantinople. There was a moment of dreadful silence, andthen Miss Wealthy tried to smile, and began to help to thealmond-pudding. "Yes, I am sure you are sorry, Martha!" shesaid;--"Hilda, my dear, a little pudding?--and probably Jenny is sorrytoo. You like the sauce, dear, don't you? We think Martha'salmond-pudding one of her best. I should not have minded so much if ithad been any other, but this was an odd one, and seemed so appropriate,on account of Hogarth's 'Industrious Apprentice' done in brown on theinside. Is it quite sweet enough for you, my dear Rose?"

  This speech was somewhat bewildering; but after a moment Rose succeededin separating the part that belonged to her, and said that the puddingwas most delicious.

  "Jenny broke a cup last winter, did she not, Martha?" asked MissWealthy.

  "A very small cup, Mam," replied Martha, deprecatingly. "That's all shehas broken since she came. She's young, you know, Mam; and she says thesaucer just slipped out of her hand, and fell on the bricks."

  Miss Wealthy shivered a little, as if she heard the crash of the brokenchina. "I cannot remember that you have broken anything, Martha," shesaid, "in thirty years; and you were young when you came to me. But wewill not say anything more, and I dare say Jenny will be more careful infuture. The pudding is very good, Martha; and that will do, thank you."Martha withdrew, and Miss Wealthy turned to the girls with a sad littlesmile. "Martha is very exact," she said. "A thing of this sort troublesher extremely. Very methodical, my good Martha!"

  "Hildegarde," said Rose, wishing to turn the subject and cheer thespirits of their kind hostess, "what did you mean, just now, by tellingDr. Johnson that you had read 'Pilgrim's Progress'? I am much puzzled!"

  Hildegarde laughed. "Oh!" she said, "he understood, but I will explainfor your benefit. When I was a little girl I was not inclined to like'Pilgrim's Progress' at first. I thought it rather dull, and liked theFairy Book better. I said so to Papa one day; and instead of replying,he went to the bookcase, and taking down Boswell's 'Life of Johnson,' heread me a little story. I think I can say it in the very words of thebook, they made so deep an impression on me: 'Dr. Johnson one day tookBishop Percy's little daughter on his knee, and asked her what shethought of 'Pilgrim's Progress.' The child answered that she had notread it. 'No!' replied the Doctor; 'then I would not give one farthingfor you!' And he set her down, and took no further notice of her.' WhenPapa explained to me," continued Hildegarde, laughing, "what a great manDr. Johnson was, it seemed to me very dreadful that he should think me,or another little girl like me, not worth a farthing. So I set to workwith right good-will at 'Pilgrim's Progress;' and when I was once fairly_in_ the story, of course I couldn't put it down till I had finishedit."

  "Your father is a very sensible man," said Miss Wealthy, approvingly."'Pilgrim's Progress' is an important part of a child's education,certainly! Let me give you a little more pudding, Hilda, my dear! No!nor you, Rose? Then, if the Doctor is ready, suppose we go into theparlor."

  They found the parlor very cool and pleasant, with the blinds, as usual,drawn half-way down. Miss Wealthy drew one blind half an inch lower,compared it with the others, and pushed it up an eighth of an inch.

  "And what are you going to do with yourselves this afternoon, girlies?"she asked, settling herself in her armchair, and smelling of herpansies, which, as usual, stood on the little round table at her elbow.

  "Rose must go and lie down at once!" said Hildegarde, decidedly. "Shemust lie down for two hours every day at first, Dr. Flower says, and onehour by and by, when she is a great deal stronger. And I--oh, I shallread to her a little, till she begins to be sleepy, and then I shallwrite to Mamma and wander about. This is such a _happy_ place, CousinWealthy! One does not need to do anything in particular; it is enoughjust to be alive and well." Then she remembered her manners, and added:"But isn't there something I can do for you, Cousin Wealthy? Can't Iwrite some notes for you,--I often write notes for Mamma,--or wind someworsted, or do something useful? I have been playing all day, youknow."

  Miss Wealthy looked pleased. "Thank you, my dear!" she said warmly. "Ishall be very glad of your help sometimes; but to-day I really havenothing for you to do, and besides, I think the first day ought to beall play. If you can make yourself happy in this quiet place, that isall I shall ask of you to-day. I shall probably take a little napmyself, as I often do after dinner, sitting here in my chair."

  Obeying Hildegarde's imperative nod, Rose left her seat by the window,half reluctantly, and moved slowly toward the door. "It seems wicked tolie down on such a day!" she murmured; "but I suppose I must."

  As she spoke, she heard a faint, a very faint sigh from Miss Wealthy.Feeling instinctively that something was wrong, she turned and saw thatthe tidy on the back of the chair she had been sitting in had slippeddown. She went back quickly, straightened it, patted it a little, andthen with an apologetic glance and smile at the old lady, went to joinHildegarde.

  "A very sweet, well-mannered girl!" was Miss Wealthy's mental comment,as her eyes rested contentedly on the smooth rectangular lines of thetidy. "Two of the sweetest girls, in fact, that I have seen for a goodwhile. Mildred has brought up her daughter extremely well; and when onethinks of it, she herself has developed in a most extraordinary manner.A most notable and useful woman, Mildred! Who would have thought it?"

  Rose slept in the inner bedroom, which opened directly out ofHildegarde's, with a curtained doorway between. It was a pretty room,and very appropriate for Rose, as there were roses on the wall-paper andon the soft gray carpet. Here the ex-invalid, as she began to callherself, lay down on the cool white bed, in the pretty summer wrapperof white challis, dotted with rosebuds, which had been Mrs. Grahame'sparting present. Hildegarde put a light shawl over her, and then satdown on the window-seat.

  "Shall I read or sing, Rosy?" she asked.

  "Oh! but are you quite sure you don't want to do something else, dear?"asked Rose.

  "Absolutely sure!" said Hildegarde. "Quite positively sure!"

  "Then," said Rose, "sing that pretty lullaby that you found in the oldsong-book the other day. So pretty! it is the one that Patient Grissilsings to her babies, isn't it?"

  So Hilda sang, as follows:--

  "'Golden slumbers kiss your eyes, Smiles awake you when you rise. Sleep, pretty wantons, do not cry, And I will sing a lullaby. Rock them, rock them, lullaby.

  "'Care is heavy, therefore sleep you; You are care, and care must keep you. Sleep, pretty wantons, do not cry, And I will sing a lullaby. Rock them, rock them, lullaby.'"

  Hildegarde glanced at the bed, and saw that Rose's eyes were justclosing. Still humming the last lines of the lullaby, she cast about inher mind for something else; and there came to her another song ofquaint old Thomas Dekker, which she loved even more than the other. Shesang softly,--

  "'Art thou poor, yet hast thou golden slumbers? O sweet Content! Art thou rich, yet is thy mind perplexed? O Punishment! Dost laugh to see how fools are vexed To add to golden numbers golden numbers? O sweet Content, O sweet, O sweet Content!

  "'Canst drink the waters of the crisped spring? O sweet Content! Swim'st thou in wealth, yet sink'st in thine own tears? O Punishment! Then he that patiently Want's burden bears No burden bears, but is a king, a king. O sweet Content, O sweet, O sweet Content.'"

  Once more Hildegarde glanced at the bed; then, rising softly and stillhumming the lovely refrain, she slipped out of the room; for Rose, the"sweet content" resting like sunshine on her face, was asleep.