“I suppose,” said Miss Mildmay, “that even in the lower classes grades must tell. There are grades everywhere. When I gave the poor children a tea at Christmas, the carpenter’s little girls were not allowed to come because the little flower-woman’s children were to be there.” “For that matter we don’t know anything about the doctor’s grade, Ruth Mildmay. He might be a baker’s son just like George for anything we know.” “That is true,” said the other. “You can’t tell who anybody is nowadays. But because he is a doctor--which I don’t think anything of as a profession--none of my belongings were ever doctors, I know nothing about them--he might ask any girl to marry him--anybody----” “Surely, his education makes some difference,” Katherine said. “Oh, education! You can pick up as much education as you like at any roadside now. And what does that kind of education do for you?--walking hospitals where the worst kind of people are collected together, and growing familiar with the nastiest things and the most horrible! Will that teach a man the manners of a gentleman?” Miss Mildmay asked, raising her hands and appealing to earth and heaven. At this point in the conversation the drawing-room door opened, and someone came in knocking against the angles of the furniture. “May I announce myself?” a voice said. “Burnet--Dr., as I stand in the directory. John was trying to catch the midge, which had bolted, and accordingly I brought myself in. How do you do, Miss Katherine? It is very cold outside.” “The midge bolted!” both the ladies cried with alarm, rushing to the window. “Nothing of the sort,” cried Mrs. Shanks, who was the more nimble. “It is there standing as quiet as a judge. Fancy the midge bolting!” “Oh, have they got it safe again?” he said. “But you ladies should not drive such a spirited horse.” “Fancy----” Mrs. Shanks began, but the ground was cut from under her feet by her more energetic friend. “Katherine,” she said, “you see what a very good example this is of what we were saying. It is evident the doctor wants us to bolt after the midge--if you will forgive me using such a word.” “On the contrary,” said the doctor, “I wish you to give me your advice, which I am sure nobody could do better. I want you to tell me whether you think the Laurels would be a good place for me to set up my household gods.” “The Laurels! oh, the Laurels----” cried Mrs. Shanks, eager to speak, but anxious at the same time to spare Dr. Burnet’s feelings. “The Cantrells have bought the Laurels,” said Miss Mildmay, quickly, determined to be first. “The Cantrells--the bakers!” he cried, his countenance falling.