“Of course,” said the doctor, “it's become a habit with him now, or a mania. He seems to speak of his trouble as if mentioning it were a sort of conjuration to prevent it. I wouldn't venture to check him in his way of talking. He may find strength in it.” “It's all terrible!” “But it isn't by any means hopeless.” “I'm so glad to hear you say so. You see a great deal of them, I believe?” “Yes,” said the doctor, getting back from their seriousness, with apparent relief. “Pretty nearly every day. Putney and I consider the ways of God to man a good deal together. You can imagine that in a place like Hatboro' one would make the most of such a friend. In fact, anywhere.” “Yes, of course,” Annie assented. “Dr. Morrell,” she added, in that effect of continuing the subject with which one breaks away from it, “do you know much about South Hatboro'?” “I have some patients there.” “I was there this morning--” “I heard of you. They all take a great interest in your theatricals.” “In _my_ theatricals? Really this is too much! Who has made them my theatricals, I should like to know? Everybody at South Hatboro' talked as if I had got them up.” “And haven't you?” “No. I've had nothing to do with them. Mr. Brandreth spoke to me about them a week ago, and I was foolish enough to go round with Mrs. Munger to collect public opinion about her invited dance and supper; and now it appears that I have invented the whole affair.” “I certainly got that impression,” said the doctor, with a laugh lurking under his gravity. “Well, it's simply atrocious,” said Annie. “I've nothing at all to do with either. I don't even know that I approve of their object.” “Their object?” “Yes. The Social Union.” “Oh! Oh yes. I had forgot about the object,” and now the doctor laughed outright. “It seems to have dropped into the background with everybody,” said Annie, laughing too. “You like the unconventionality of South Hatboro'?” suggested the doctor, after a little silence. “Oh, very much,” said Annie. “I was used to the same thing abroad. It might be an American colony anywhere on the Continent.” “I suppose,” said the doctor musingly, “that the same conditions of sojourn and disoccupation _would_ produce the same social effects anywhere. Then you must feel quite at home in South Hatboro'!” “Quite! It's what I came back to avoid. I was sick of the life over there, and I wanted to be of some use here, instead of wasting all my days.” She stopped, resolved not to go on if he took this lightly, but the doctor answered her with sufficient gravity: “Well?”