Miss Twettenham entered the drawing-room, and then stood gazing in wonder at the little plump, brisk-looking man, with a rosy face, in spite of the deep bronze to which it was burned by exposure to the sun and air. He was evidently about seven or eight and forty, but full of life and energy; a couple of clear grey eyes looking out from beneath a pair of rather shaggy eyebrows--for his face was better supplied with hirsute appendages than his head--a large portion of which was very white and smooth, seeming to be polished to the highest pitch, and contrasting strangely with his sunbrowned face. As Miss Twettenham entered, the little doctor was going on tiptoe, with open hands, towards the window, where he dexterously caught a large fly, and after placing it conveniently between the finger and thumb of his left hand, he drew a lens from his waistcoat pocket, and began examining his prize. "Hum! Yes," he said, in a low, thoughtful tone, "decided similarity in the trunk. Eyes rather larger. Intersection of--I beg your pardon! Miss Twettenham?" The lady bowed, and looked rather dignified. Catching flies and examining them in her drawing-room by means of a lens was an unusual proceeding, especially when there were so many much worthier objects for examination in the shape of pupils' drawings and needlework about the place. Miss Twettenham softened though directly, for the manners of Dr Bolter were, she owned, perfect. Nothing could have been more gentlemanly than the way in which he waited for her to be seated, and then, after a chatty introduction, came to the object of his visit. "You see, my dear madam, it happens so opportunely my being in England. Perowne and Stuart are both old friends and patients, and of course they did not like the idea of their daughters being entrusted to comparative strangers." "So you will be friend, guardian, and medical attendant all in one?" said Miss Twettenham, smiling. "Exactly," said the little doctor. "I have never seen them; they are quite schoolgirls--children, I suppose?" "Ye-es," said Miss Twettenham, who had a habit of measuring a young lady's age by its distance from her own, "they are very young." "No joke of a task, my dear madam, undertaking the charge of two young ladies--and I hope from my heart they are too young and plain to be attractive--make it difficult for me." There was a bright red spot on each of Miss Twettenham's cheeks, and she replied with a little hesitation: "They are both young, and you will find in Miss Stuart a young lady of great sweetness and promise." "Glad to hear it, my dear madam. Her father is a very dry Scot, very quaint and parsimonious, but a good fellow at heart." "Most punctual in his payments," said Miss Twettenham, with dignity. "Oh, of course, of course!" said Dr Bolter. "More so, I'll be bound, than Perowne." "Mr Perowne is not so observant of dates as Mr Stuart, I must own, Dr Bolter," said Miss Twettenham.