His mother came down the stairs. “What in the world were you quarrelling with that girl about, Rufus?” “We were not quarrelling, mother.” “Well, it sounded like it. Who was she? “Who?” repeated her son absently. “Dr. Breen.” “_Doctor_ Breen? That girl a doctor?” “Yes.” “I _thought_ she was some saucy thing. Well, upon my word!” exclaimed Mrs. Mulbridge. “So _that_ is a female doctor, is it? Was she sick?” “No,” said her son, with what she knew to be professional finality. “Mother, if you can hurry dinner a little, I shall be glad. I have to drive over to Jocelyn’s, and I should like to start as soon as possible.” “Who was the young man with her? Her beau, I guess.” “Was there a young man with her?” asked Dr. Mulbridge. His mother went out without speaking. She could be unsatisfactory, too. VI. No one but Mrs. Breen knew of her daughter’s errand, and when Grace came back she alighted from Mr. Libby’s buggy with an expression of thanks that gave no clew as to the direction or purpose of it. He touched his hat to her with equal succinctness, and drove away, including all the ladies on the piazza in a cursory obeisance. “We must ask _you_, Miss Gleason,” said Mrs. Alger. “Your admiration of Dr. Breen clothes you with authority and responsibility.” “I can’t understand it at all,” Miss Gleason confessed. “But I’m sure there’s nothing in it. He isn’t her equal. She would feel that it wasn’t right—under the circumstances.” “But if Mrs. Maynard was well it would be a fair game, you mean,” said Mrs. Alger. “No,” returned Miss Gleason, with the greatest air of candor, “I can’t admit that I meant that.” “Well,” said the elder lady, “the presumption is against them. Every young couple seen together must be considered in love till they prove the contrary.” “I like it in her,” said Mrs. Frost. “It shows that she is human, after all. It shows that she is like other girls. It’s a relief.” “She isn’t like other girls,” contended Miss Gleason darkly. “I would rather have Mr. Libby’s opinion,” said Mrs. Merritt. Grace went to Mrs. Maynard’s room, and told her that Dr. Mulbridge was coming directly after dinner. “I knew you would do it!” cried Mrs. Maynard, throwing her right arm round Grace’s neck, while the latter bent over to feel the pulse in her left. “I knew where you had gone as soon as your mother told me you had driven off with Walter Libby. I’m so glad that you’ve got somebody to consult! Your theories are perfectly right and I’m sure that Dr. Mulbridge will just tell you to keep on as you’ve been doing.” Grace withdrew from her caress. “Dr. Mulbridge is not coming for a consultation. He refused to consult with me.” “Refused to consult? Why, how perfectly ungentlemanly! _Why_ did he refuse?” “Because he is an allopathist and I am a homœopathist.” “Then, what is he coming for, I should like to know!” “I have given up the case to him,” said Grace wearily.